Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast
by winter machine
Summary: "You can have the baby, or the guy."  After Sam answers her ultimatum, Addison returns to New York to start a new life - only to find out she's pregnant after all.  Very A/U, starting after 4.16
1. We're all one phone call from our knees

**Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast**

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><p><em>Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said; "one can't believe impossible things."<em>

_"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."_

(Lewis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland_)

_She got the call today  
>One out of the grey<br>And when the smoke cleared  
>It took her breath away<em>

_She said she didn't believe  
>It could happen to me<br>I guess we're all one phone call from our knees_

(Mat Kearney, _Closer to Love_)

* * *

><p>Some things are impossible. She knows this. Of course, she's pretty good at beating the odds. She's a surgeon, after all. She plays the odds for a living.<p>

She got a perfect score on her SATs. When her brother called it a fluke, she signed up for the next round and took it again, just to show him. Another perfect score. And what were the odds, really, that the first time she succumbed to the intoxicating danger of her husband's best friend's arms, said husband would walk in on them?

So even though it's impossible, even though the odds are against her in every way, she takes the test.

It's the first pregnancy test she's bought this side of forty, and like cigarettes or condoms or Hostess she lets the drugstore clerk judge her without question.

She takes the test before she's forced to admit it to herself.

_This one she wants._

But it's negative, of course. Positive news is only what she delivers to other people.

**X**

Wrapped in a sweater's embrace, she reclines on the hard wooden slats of a deck chair, contemplating her mortality.

It's not like it's the first dream she's given up.

"Are you in or are you out?"

He answers more quickly than she'd expected. "I'm sorry, Addison."

She nods. She doesn't cry. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not pregnant, then."

"I'll still be here for you." He doesn't meet her eye. "As a friend. You know."

"Sure," she says.

**X**

Like she's sure she needs a clean break, to get away from this place and cocoon herself somewhere to prepare for what she wants next.

But it can't be somewhere new. She can't add another pushpin to the map of her failures. So she looks back.

She misses New York, the bustle, the cloaked warmth. She wants to see seasons change again, to see the friends left behind what seems like a lifetime ago.

There have been many opportunities for her to return in the four years since she left; she seizes one with surprising ease.

**X**

"Is this because of me? Of what I said?"

Naomi's looking for absolution, not honesty. Feeling generous after seeing the size of the signing bonus, she grants it.

"Of course not."

**X**

She flies out to visit and accepts the offer with a handshake and a broad smile. It's crisp and cool in New York, all the old smells just as she remembers. They pop a bottle of champagne as she imprints the final iteration of _Addison Forbes Montgomery_ on the contract.

"The famous Addison Montgomery. I can't believe we're finally getting our hands on you."

Addison takes a sip of champagne.

"I really didn't think you'd say yes."

"Well," Addison demurs, smoothing her skirt. She crosses one boot over the other. So this is what the other end of the ultimatum feels like.

"Are you going to miss the west coast?"

Sam's face floats before her. The negative pregnancy test. "Probably not."

**X**

She flies back to L.A. to get her affairs in order before returning to New York.

"It's only a year's commitment," she reminds Amelia. "I want you to stay in the house."

As for where Addison is going to live - that's another story.

She's never going back to Central Park West. Of this she's certain. And the upper east side just reminds her of her family, the Park Avenue co-op her parents kept while she was growing up. With what she knows now about her parents, she can only imagine the things that tasteful two-bedroom must have seen.

And the lure of walking to work is strong - she misses it from her New York days, sipping coffee as she marched in step with a clamoring herd, breathing in what passed for fresh air.

Because she wants to walk, and she doesn't want to think, she take a furnished place in a luxury building a few blocks from the University hospital. She's never lived in that neighborhood but it has to be better than this. Savvy and Weiss aren't too far away - close enough to meet for runs, something they haven't done in years - and they've told her they're planning to take her out as soon as she arrives.

**X**

Amelia swears she'll visit, and then teasingly asks for the keys to Addison's convertible. But she's taking the car with her; there's a garage in the building and maybe she can escape on an occasional weekend. The hospital's recruiting team has made everything as easy as they can; a driver is coming to pick the car up and drive it across country for her.

With only a few hours left in California, Amelia makes a production of her farewell breakfast, chopping vegetables, cracking eggs, and muttering as butter sizzles.

"Almost ready," Amelia says. "Just have to - oh, crap."

Addison can't help smiling at the faint crashing sounds. "Sounds like more than an egg is breaking."

Her phone rings - St. Ambrose. She's closing out patient files, but a few loose ends remain.

She ducks outside to take one last call from the sun-warmed deck.

"Doctor Montgomery."

"Addison, it's Rachel Ford."

And then life turns on its ear with an almost comical record-scratching shock.

"No, that's impossible."

"It's true. I checked twice."

"Check again, Rachel. It's not possible."

"Look, Addison, I may not be double board certified, I may not be you, but I am a damned good OB and I think I know when someone is pregnant. A false reading with an OTC test isn't that unusual at your age, and a blood test-"

"Oh my god..."

She grips the back of a chair, knees weak. "It was just supposed to be a blood test."

"Why don't you come into the office? We can talk."

She hangs up instead and walks slowly back inside, her head buzzing. Her flight to New York leaves in in six hours.

"Who was that?" Amelia slides a plate in front of her loaded with bright yellow omelet.

"Just the hospital."

"Everything okay?"

The omelet is flooded with melted cheese, softened tomatoes spilling out the sides and Addison swallows hard on rising bile. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, the driver called to confirm that you still want him to come at noon." Amelia glances at the clock. "I told him your plans haven't changed."

"Good." Addison breathes deeply through her nose, takes a bite of omelet. It's not so hard to chew. It's actually not impossible to swallow. "They haven't."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: This is my palate cleanser - outside the universe of anything else I'm working on. I don't think I can handle an Addisam baby onscreen, so I challenged myself to see if I could handle it like this. Next chapter: Addison's back in New York, and Savvy and Weiss re-enter the picture. If you're still on board, please let me know what you think!


	2. Changed in the night

**Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast  
>By Winter Machine<strong>

_Please see my livejournal (winter-machine (at) livejournal .com) for full disclaimers. _

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><p><strong>Chapter Two - <em>Changed in the Night<em>**

_"I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"_

_(_Lewis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland)_

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><p>It's not the first time she's awakened to a realization that this is the morning after her life has changed.<p>

This time, though, it's not regret that coats her as she strestches lazily in the enormous, unfamiliar bed. It's something else entirely. She runs a hand down her stomach, which feels as flat as ever. And yet - somehow different. Somehow it's not the same.

She showers, dresses, acts almost as if it's a normal day. As if she knows what in the world is going on.

**X**

She's just thinking that some food might be nice when the unexpected buzz of the doorbell startles her.

She peers through the peephole and then yanks the door open, smiling broadly when she sees her visitors. "Apparently the concierge will let just anyone up?"

"You should really have words with him." Savvy throws her arms around her. "Addie! Finally!"

When she pulls back Addison notices the small girl wrapped around her old friend's leg. Her shiny black hair is tied neatly back and she's wearing a tiny backpack shaped like a ladybug.

"Look, sweetie." Savvy nudges the child gently. "It's Addie, Hope. It's Aunt Addie. Do you want to say hi?"

"Hi," she whispers.

"She'll be shy for, like, five minutes, tops," Savvy promises.

"She's her mother's daughter, then."

"Just ask her father; he says he still can't hear himself think - and I haven't even told you about - " she lowers her voice "number two."

Addison raises her eyebrows. "Another -"

"Shh!" Savvy indicates her daughter, who has released her leg and is listening to the conversation with interest. "Little pitchers."

"Well, come on in then," Addison opens the door wider.

"We brought breakfast." Savvy raises a brown paper bag of bagels. "Do you have coffee?"

"I just got in last night," she grumbles.

"I've known you for twenty-five years, Addie, so don't try to convince me you didn't hook up the espresso machine first thing."

"First thing was my shoes."

"Second thing, then. So this is the furnished apartment?" Savvy purses her lips. "It's not really your style, is it, Addie?"

Addison shrugs. "Give me a little time." The apartment is large and bright, but - she frowns at the white leather couch. "Well, for some of it."

"I'm thirsty," Hope tugs at her mother's sleeve.

"I don't suppose she drinks coffee yet..."

"Not yet, but give her a couple years at this rate. We're all set," Savvy says, and pours orange juice from her H&H bag into a pink plastic sippy cup for Hope, who seizes it.

"Do you have a kitty?" Hope asks suddenly.

"I do, actually, but he's in California right now."

"Can I pet him?"

"You can come visit him in California sometime and pet him," Addison smiles at the little girl. "Do you like the beach?"

Hope furrows her small brow. "I like the park," she says finally.

Savvy balances Hope on one knee, sipping a latte with her other hand. Addison marvels at how natural she looks.

"I figured you hadn't had a decent bagel in forever," Savvy says around a mouthful of sesame and cream cheese.

"I haven't. This is perfect." It is, actually, much easier on her stomach than she'd feared.

She takes small sips of coffee, small bites of bagel and her body doesn't protest. Yesterday's cross-country flight had been a six-hour disaster of delays, nausea, and a memorable trip to the restroom while the fasten-seatbelt sign was flashing - so she could empty her protesting stomach of omelet she'd forced down before she left. Her stomach didn't settle until the plane landed, the pressure easing in parallel to the grip of her white-knuckled fingers on the padded armrest.

**X**

_It's easier to breathe in New York._ That was the first thought that crossed her mind when the uniformed driver escorted her, his arms full of her bags, to the waiting car. She swallowed big lungfuls of New York air; even tinged with jet fuel it tasted just right. In the town car she rested a hand on her stomach - flat - and wondered if it was all a dream.

She'll find out soon enough.

Her mind drifts; she half listens as Savvy chats animatedly, a sesame bagel disappearing into her neatly lipsticked mouth. She's The Talkative One; the first day of college, freshman year, as Addison waded nervously onto the old campus, Savvy bounded across their shared room with a grin and greeted her all in one breath: "_Hi _you must be Addison that's a neat name is it your mom's maiden name 'cause my mom wanted to call me Tarleton which is her maiden name but my dad said no way so it's my middle name but anyway I'm Savvy and I'm super super excited to finally get here and can I have the bed by the window?" Addison had slowly nodded. "Sure, okay."

They were fast friends right away, but it wasn't until Christmas break freshman year that Addison believed it. She had reluctantly left the buzzing cheer of the campus for her parents' chilly, silent house. She immediately missed Savvy's constant chatter, breakfast in the dining hall with shouts and laughter, even the dorm of boys next door who liked to hide behind the bushes and pitch snowballs at the girls as they walked to class, Addison giggling and shrieking as much as the others. She didn't want to be the silent, lonely girl she remembered from high school. In college, she was different. In college, she was happy. She worried that leaving campus would break the spell - that things would change when she got back, that the magical life she'd managed to assemble in college would vanish.

She stepped tentatively into their shared bedroom, which always smelled of sawdust and sharpened pencils and Savvy's White Shoulders perfume. Savvy jumped in as if they were still in the middle of a conversation. "I made out like an absolute bandit but I really think cashmere is over for the season. How was your Christmas, Addie? Thank God you're _finally _back!" And she threw her arms around Addison, who smiled goofily, realizing she didn't remember anyone else ever being this happy to see her.

Not even long gaps of silence could change anything. When Addison was studying for the MCAT, holed up in the library alone or occasionally with her pre-med friends, she didn't see Savvy for days at a time, even though they lived together. Savvy's first year of law school, the girls didn't see each other until spring break. Addison's intern year, Savvy's bar summer - these periods of absence would come and go and the friendship never wavered. They could always pick up again as if nothing had left off.

**X**

"Addie?" Hope's little voice cuts into her thoughts. She nibbles at a pumpernickel bagel. "Do you have a doggie?"

"No, sweetie, just a cat," Addison says. "What about you? Do you have any pets?"

"I have a rabbit at my classroom. He's a white rabbit."

Savvy tucks a loose strand of Hope's hair behind her ear. "And you got to baby-sit him for the weekend, right, Hopie?"

"Yes!" Hope exclaims. "I get to take the rabbit to my house and he ran in my room!"

"It was great," Savvy says. Over Hope's head she mouths to Addison_ total nightmare _and Addison laughs softly. She's fascinated by this maternal version of Savvy, by the little girl nestled against her.

Savvy moistens a napkin and dabs at her daughter's mouth as if she's been doing this for years. And she has, of course, Addison terribly out of the loop with annual holiday cards and emailed photos her only evidence of how rapidly the little girl has grown. "We should head out. This young lady has school."

"Thanks for breakfast." Addison smiles at Hope, who beams back up at her and says "I only like brown bagels today, right, Mommy?"

"Apparently so, kiddo." Savvy plays with her daughter's hair. "Who knows what tomorrow will bring, though?" and Hope giggles.

Savvy squeezes Addison's hand. "It's so great to have you back, Addie. _So _great."

Hope waves bye-bye at the door, at her mother's instruction, while Savvy whispers "Don't forget tonight Weiss is on daddy duty so you and I can _really _catch up."

"Can't wait," Addison swallows hard, because she's never been able to lie to Savvy, which means Savvy's going to have to hear the truth.

**X**

"You're definitely pregnant."

And there it is, the truth.

Addison barely hears the doctor, every one of her senses focused on the little curled up creature floating on the screen next to her.

_Hi, baby._

The black and white image blurs.

This is real. This is actually happening.

He removes the ultrasound and hands her a towel to clean the gel off her stomach. She misses the picture as soon as it disappears. "Can you, um-"

"I'm printing it out now." He smiles at her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling good."

"This is ... unexpected?" he probes gently.

Addison just nods vaguely. This was supposed to be her unpacking day, her settling-in day. Nesting. Instead she's belly-up on a paper-lined table while her life changes right before her eyes.

They move into his office and Addison hangs tightly to the shiny printout in her hand, this picture of the impossible. She crosses her legs, studies the shelf of framed pictures of children and grandchildren.

"Everything looks good for now, but given your history, I'd like to see you in the care of a specialist."

"Okay."

"I'm thinking of the high-risk OB specialist at St. Catherine's -" off Addison's expression he asks, "Oh, have you worked with her?"

_That's one way to put it._

"Yes."

"Great, I'll reach out to her, and-"

"Actually, I should probaby call her myself."

**X**

She _will _call, but not today. Today is still her first day in New York. Today, everything has changed.

She listens to the familiar click-click of her bootheels on the sidewalk, shoulders her purse and hails a cab, the gesture as natural as a yawn. She slides into the cracked leather seat, smelling patchoui and stale coffee, and gives the driver the address of the one place she's always been able to collect her thoughts.

Then she pulls out the printed sonogram, already moist at the edges from her tight grip. She rests a hand on her belly and closes her eyes, the motion of the cab soothing her. She hears only her own heartbeat, but she knows now there's another heart too.

Maybe if she concentrates hard enough, the life growing within her will be able to sense her words.

_Hi, baby,_ she starts again. _So. It's just the two of us. Okay? I don't know yet how we're going to do it. But we're going to be fine. _

She can feel her breathing evening out.

_Not just fine. Great. I've been waiting for you for a long time, baby._ _And_ - as soon as she says it she realizes how powerfully, painfully true is is - _I already love you more than I can say._

* * *

><p>Next time: Savvy finds out!<p> 


	3. We are all like astronauts

**Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast**

**Chapter Three - _We Are All Like Astronauts (Discovery, Infinity)_**

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><p><em>But then, shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way - never to be an old woman - but then - always to have lessons to learn!<em>

(Lewis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland_)

* * *

><p>Addison leans back in the thickly upholstered seat as patches of starlight illuminate the vast blackness above her. A sense of calm descends over her, as it always has in this place. Calm, and wonder, at the size of the model universe and all the enormity it illustrates.<p>

She's loved the planetarium since one of her father's research assistants - a pretty young student, probably trying to curry favor, she knows - brought her here when she traveled to the city with him for a lecture. She'd been much smaller then, little legs dangling off the seat. But the feeling remains the same: completely entranced by the stars, the size, the booming, authoritative voice reminding her how very small she is in comparison to everything around her.

_I'm going to bring you here._ She rests a hand on her belly. _There are so many places I'm going to take you, baby. _

In a flash of sentimentality she tucks her planetarium ticket into the zippered pocket of her bag - for the baby book she'll need to start at some point.

**X**

A breathless Savvy opens the door to her upper east side apartment, and Addison hears chaos behind her. "Sorry! I'll be ready in a minute. Just trying to get Hope ready for bed before we go- Weiss!" she calls.

"Addie!" Weiss pulls her into a friendly hug. "Good to see you on the right coast. I'm sorry for the mess" and a little dark-haired hurricane blows past all of them. Addison has a fleeting impression of flying black hair, red pajamas, and scampering feet before she disappears again.

"She's overtired," Savvy explains. "Hope! Come back, honey," she calls after her daughter. Hope makes another cycle through the foyer, yelling "Hi Addie!" before darting away.

"I beg you not to give her juice after four," Savvy murmurs to Weiss, who protests "she wanted it!"

"We're going to make the reservation, right?" Savvy checks her watch.

"We're fine," Addison assures her.

Weiss returns with a bundle of squirming toddler in his arms.

"I don't want to go to bed!" Hope shrieks at an impressive volume for her tiny size. Weiss tickles her and the howl of rage quickly becomes one of laughter.

"Be a good girl while I'm out," Savvy kisses her cheek and Hope wraps her arms around her mother's neck. "Can I come too?"

"Big girls only tonight. And it's past your bedtime! Be good for Daddy, okay?" Savvy kisses her again and stretches up to kiss Weiss.

"Bye, Hope," Addison gives her a little wave and Hope, who has tucked her head into Weiss's neck, eyelashes fluttering with exhaustion despite her protests, waves back.

**X**

"Oh, the drama," Savvy rolls her eyes as they stroll down the block, stacked-heel boots clicking in tandem, and tucks her hand into the crook of Addison's arm. "She knows she can wrap him around her little finger. Watch, I'll get back tonight and she'll be watching The Little Mermaid for the fiftieth time instead of sleeping."

Off Addie's raised eyebrow she says "I know, I know, we Weren't Doing Princesses, so we ended up with all these reclaimed wood blocks and gender non-specific stuff and then my great aunt in Charlotte sent her _Mulan._ The movie. I didn't even know she knew what a DVD was. It's- sort of awful, right? But also sort of sweet? Anyway, that was it. Once they can recognize one of the princesses, there's no going back. It's like little girl crack and they're _everywhere._ But she can still be a CEO astronaut explorer," Savvy says quickly. "Just, you know, so long as she can wear something pink or a tiara while she does it."

Addison laughs. "She seems like an amazing kid, Sav."

"She is." Savvy's eyes are soft. "She's the best. It's nothing like what I thought it would be, you know? But it's just so great."

**X**

"How are you holding up?" Savvy asks when they're settled in a cozy booth at the Mexican restaurant Addison remembers from before she left New York. As usual with the two of them, there's no need for further detail; it's clear what she means. And it's the first time they've raised Bizzy, directly or indirectly, since they spoke the day after her death.

"I'm okay. The move has been distracting." _Among other things._ Addison scoops surprisingly tasty guacamole onto a chip, hopes that her newly strong stomach will keep it up during the meal.

"I feel terrible we missed the memorial service," Savvy says.

"Don't," Addison assures her. Savvy and Weiss had been out of the country that whole week, she knows.

Savvy doesn't push - one of the many reasons Addison loves her - just orders two pomegranate margaritas and changes the subject.

**X**

They're halfway through their main courses, Addison's margarita untouched by her left elbow, when Savvy passes a small picture across the table. The little boy - Savvy and Weiss's reason for being out of the country - has sparkling dark eyes, his mouth turned up at the corners in a laugh.

"He's beautiful, Sav."

"It's taking so long," she sighs. "So much red tape. It's longer than we thought, and Hope is _so _excited, she kept saying the baby would be here for her birthday, and then he wasn't, and then for Passover, and that's not going to happen, and...I just want him to get here."

"He will." Addison passes the picture back to her. "He will, Savvy."

**X**

"You haven't touched your drink, Addie. Don't you like it?" Savvy dabs her mouth with her napkin.

Addison lifts the glass, swirls the cloudy pink liquid, then sets it back down again.

"I...I'm pregnant, Sav."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant. Twelve weeks."

Savvy's blue eyes are round with shock. "But - I thought - "

"So did I. I guess you only need so many eggs to get pregnant. Maybe I should have played the lottery. I don't know, Savvy, I just know I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant," Savvy repeats calmly, nodding, and Addison counts _one, two, three_-

"_OH MY GOD_!" Savvy shrieks. She leaps out of her seat, hurls herself into Addison's side of the booth and flings her arms around her.

Addison laughs into the mouthful of blond hair that is covering her face. "Yeah..."

"Oh my God, Addie, this is amazing. Amazing. Incredible. Are you - how are you - do you - " she breaks off. "OH MY GOD!" And she hugs her more tightly.

Savvy pulls away, her hand drifting toward Addison's midsection.

"Can I...?"

"Of course."

Savvy touches her stomach gently. "Still flat. You're pregnant and your stomach is flatter than mine; the world is _not _fair, Addie."

"That's because your godchild makes me throw up half of what I eat. I'll get bigger," Addison assures her.

"My...?"

Addison nods.

Savvy hugs her again. "This is incredible. Oh, Addie," and Savvy reaches for her friend's untouched margarita and takes a long, pink gulp. Both women flop back against the booth, fingers entwined.

"You're _pregnant._"

It gets easier each time, so Addison squeezes her old friend's hand and says it one more time. "Yeah. I'm pregnant."

"Addie," Savvy begins. "When you said you were moving out here, I thought there wasn't a guy in the picture -"

"There wasn't."

"Oh. Well ... "

"There was, but then there wasn't. He didn't want children. I did. And ..."

"Does he know?"

Addison shakes her head. "I didn't even know until two days ago."

"Is it someone I know?"

"I... I don't really want to talk about him, Savvy. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Savvy says immediately and Addison is flooded with love for her, for the easy give and take of their friendship.

"_Pregnant,_" Savvy sighs again, squeezing Addison's hand. "This...is..._incredible,_" and she signals the waitress for another drink.

**X**

Addison props her cell phone against her mug of decaf, pushes toast around her plate. The baby likes to her to eat in the mornings, she's discovered, even if she ends up throwing it up later. Nibbling carefully at the well-done crusts, she swallows, chases it with a mouthful of coffee, and then decides she's procrastinated enough. She dials the 203-exchange. Connecticut.

Three rings before she answers.

Addison takes a deep breath.

"Nancy, do you have a minute?"

**X**

Addison studies the top of her former sister-in-law's head, as much as she can see from her stirrup-legged vantage point. The nice thing about medical school, about internship and residency and all the gore and co-ed locker rooms that go along with them is that any remaining modesty pretty much just disappears. Add that to the fact that she delivered three of Nancy's four children - not to mention the various other compromising positions each former-sister-in-law has seen or heard about the other - and there's nothing strange about lying on her back, thighs outstretched to the heavens, while her ex-husband's older sister conducts a trans-vaginal ultrasound with orchestral precision.

"Looks good, Addie. Looks very good."

Addison sits up, smoothing her shirt over her stomach.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure. But we're going to watch you carefully, okay?"

"Is this really what you do now, Nance?" Addison looks around at some of the pictures on the wall.

Nancy shrugs. "It's been booming the last few years. Fairfield County, Addie. The Connecticut Gold Coast. All these hedge fund wives trying to squeeze out one last baby before their husbands ditch them for a younger model - " she breaks off. "Anyway."

"Anyway," Addison repeats. "At least tell me I'm not your oldest patient."

"Not even close, Ads. Not even close. So how's the nausea?"

"Intermittent."

"Are you eating?"

"Intermittently."

Nancy grins. "You're already a fun patient, Addie. And you need to eat."

"Tell that to the baby."

"So." Nancy shifts on her stool. "The father..."

"He's not in the picture," Addison says immediately.

"Okay. Does he know about the baby?"

"No." Addison flexes her fingers.

"Does anyone know?"

"You. One New York friend. That's it."

"It's not Mark's, is it?" she asks suddenly.

"Nancy!"

"Sorry. I had to ask. Look, I wouldn't judge if so, Addie, you know that-"

"It's _not _Mark's."

"Is it anyone I know?"

"Do you ask this of all your patients?"

"Most of them give me a little more information."

"I don't want anyone else to know yet," Addison pleads.

"I don't violate confidentiality for anyone," Nancy assures her. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks."

"Well. You know the drill. You're high-risk, so I want to see you in two weeks. Take it easy, avoid stress, you're not exactly a spring chicken anymore, Addie."

"I'm younger than you," Addison pouts.

"So's everyone these days, hon."

**X**

"Hey." Nancy stops her at the door. Addison's back in street clothes, another precious printed sonogram hot in her fist. "You look happy."

"I am happy, Nancy."

"Then I'm happy for you." Nancy kisses her cheek. "Food, sleep, only light exercise, and I'll expect a check-in call next week."

**X**

Addison is admiring the way the new sonogram picture looks on the bare white screen of her refrigerator when her phone rings. It's her last night before starting her new job - and Savvy's already called twice to squeal more about the pregnancy - so she dawdles answering it.

Then she sees the name on the caller ID.

_Oh, you have got to be kidding me._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Chapter title comes from Merrick's "Infinity." ClaudyStream, nice guess on the high-risk OB! All reviews are much appreciated; I'm thrilled people are reading/enjoying.


	4. If you only walk long enough

**Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast - Chapter 4**

* * *

><p><em>"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" <em>  
><em>"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat. <em>  
><em>"I don't much care where-" said Alice.<br>__"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.  
><em>_"-so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.  
><em>_"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."_

(Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_)

* * *

><p><em>Then she sees the name on the caller ID. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.<em>

...

"Hi, Sam."

"Addison," he says, his tone serious. "Let me - let's cut to the chase. We should be honest with each other."

Her heart speeds up. _How could he possibly have found out? _Frantically she chases possible paths. Nancy could have called Derek. Except she wouldn't. Nancy to Kathleen to - no, Kathleen wouldn't either. Nancy to her mother to Derek to - but she can't even imagine Derek calling Sam. Nancy to Amelia - now that's even more unlikely.

But she's not ready. She's not ready. She's planning what she's going to say and how when she hears "I kissed Naomi."

"What?"

"I kissed Naomi. While you were in Connecticut. I know I told you nothing happened, but that was because I thought that it was nothing - well, I thought _she _thought it was nothing, and so I didn't think it was worth talking about."

That's a lot of pronouns. She shakes her head, which is still fuzzy.

"Do you remember when we argued, the night after you came back?"

Of course she remembers. _You're just looking for reasons to be angry with me,_ Sam had scolded as they sat feet apart on her deck. _Nothing happened with Naomi. How many times do I have to say it?_

_Naomi said what we have would never equal what the two of you have,_ Addison had snapped, annoyed by his tone. _That's "nothing"? What about that? _

Sam had shrugged. _She thinks what she thinks,_ he said. _I can't change that._

_You agree with her_! she'd exclaimed and Sam had sighed that put-upon sigh that she was growing to loathe. _Addison, you're being ridiculous. _

_What do _you_ think we have? _she'd asked. And he'd just said. _I think you're exhausted and not thinking straight and this isn't helping_, and he took her wine glass from her. _This conversation is over. I'm going to bed, _he said shortly. _ Are you coming? _They slept so far apart that night in the king-sized bed that Naomi could have lain between them with her arms outstretched. And Addison had just stared at the ceiling and wondered how they got to this place.

"I remember," she repeats now.

"I...should have been honest with you."

_Gee, thanks, Sam. _"Okay. Was there anything else?"

"One other thing..." His voice trails off.

"Yes?"

"We're seeing each other. I mean, we're trying again now. Naomi and I." Possibly mistaking her silence for interest, he continues: "turns out it wasn't nothing, it was something, and we're going to try to figure out what it was. Together. And I think this is right," he continues.

"All right. Well, you know, good luck."

"I wanted to tell you myself, before you heard it from - anyone else," he says solemnly. Her call waiting flashes at that moment - AMELIA, it says - and then it's all clear. He was beating her to the punch.

"Okay, Sam. I have to go, I have another call, but, um, thanks for letting me know."

"Addie," Amelia says breathlessly when she clicks over and Addison cuts her off: "Sam just called me. I know he's back with Naomi. It's not a big deal."

And it really isn't.

"_He _called you?" Amelia exclaims. "Wow. He's got some big-"

"Amelia!"

"-ideas! I was going to say ideas. I caught them on his side of the deck. Like teenagers," she makes a noise of disgust. "You're really okay with this?"

"I really am," she promises.

**X**

And she is, but that doesn't mean his timing doesn't annoy her, as she stands in her closet debating shoes for the morning. She dials Savvy.

"Distract me, Sav."

"Did something happen?"

"Sort of. Not exactly. I just ... distract me?"

"Come to my Seder on Monday," Savvy suggests immediately.

"Your - what?"

"My Seder, Addie. It's our turn to host this year. You want distraction, you got it. Passover. There are like six thousand rules, it's nothing _but _distraction."

"Is this the holiday where you can't eat anything?"

"Honestly, Addie, how long did you live in New York? _No._ This is the one with the matzo."

"Is that the official translation?"

"Pretty much. So, are you coming or not?"

"I'll be there."

"Addie, you'll ... let me know when you want to talk, right?"

"Of course, Sav."

"Good."

**X**

Outside it's chilly and it's glorious morning sunshine all at once, crisp and breezy and full of people - _welcome home_, she tells herself. She's missed walking to work. She's missed all of this.

Her stomach feels steady, but empty; she's hungrier in the mornings now than she's ever been. She's been delivering other people's babies for closing in on two decades now and she's still surprised at how _different_ she feels already. She runs a surreptitious hand down her midsection, still as flat as ever.

_Good._ She's not ready to tell people yet.

A hunger pang thrums at her belly as she walks. Thank goodness for the mobile coffee cart on the corner. She orders a decaf espresso and a carrot flax muffin. _You like breakfast, kiddo, you're getting breakfast. And then we're going to work. New, uncomplicated work. _

"Decaf? How are you going to get through the day on that?"

She turns around to see a thatch of blond hair, a cheeky Cheshire-cat grin and a blue fleece.

Fresh kid.

"I'm not worried," she says breezily.

"Me, I need all the caffeine I can get," he says, flashing her another smile and ordering a triple espresso. "Can't get through the workday without it."

She ignores him.

"I'm getting a new boss today. I don't know who, but they told us it was going to be pretty intense. I figure it's one of those things where if they bother to warn you, you know you have to worry, right? Like, if a doctor says 'it's going to hurt a little...'"

She does know, actually (and if fact she agrees), but she just continues to ignore him, drumming her fingers on the ledge as she waits for her coffee.

"So, yeah. I definitely need espresso."

This kid does not quit.

She raises what she hopes is a discouraging eyebrow at him. "Don't you have some homework to do?"

"Hey, I'm a fully grown, gainfully employed professional," he says indignantly. "I haven't been in school for - years."

"Please don't tell me how many years."

He grins. "So, I know this cafe with really good decaf -"

"Are you seriously asking me out?"

"No," he says quickly. "Well, actually, yes, I was trying to, but I don't know if I can handle rejection _and_ a new boss, all in one day."

"That would be a lot to handle," she says thoughtfully. Against her better judgment, she lets herself enjoy being flirted with for just a minute. It's nice to feel desirable again, even briefly, to feel the focus of a pair of admiring eyes rather than the looks of resigned annoyance Sam was reduced to at the end of their relationship.

"So, that cafe..."

"Why don't you see how your day at work goes before you get too ambitious," she suggests. "I wouldn't want you to be faced with too much rejection all at once."

"Same espresso cart, same bat time, tomorrow?"

She just smiles as she walks away. She really has missed New York.

**X**

"They're going to be thrilled when they see what they're getting. They're a good group."

Addison nods, slips into the comfortable feeling of a big hospital, noise and activity and light swirling around her. She's missed this too. Dr. Leffler smiles at her.

"Gardener - he's very focused on neonatal; he's probably our most promising as of now. We didn't even tell the kids it was you who'd be taken over. Probably would have had a bunch of heart attacks to deal with. They're regular Montgomery groupies, some of them."

She grins. Nothing like having a reputation to precede her.

"So you know we do things a little differently here. You'll have three residents on your service for each term; a term is six weeks; then they alternate."

"Got it."

"Let's get you introduced and started."

"Doctors Cortez, Herschel and Gardener, Doctor Montgomery."

Three heads snap up in tandem. A stocky dark-haired man, a gangly woman with a high ponytail of curly frizz and -

The guy from the coffee cart.

_Oh, now you REALLY have to be kidding me._

**X**

"Let me get this straight. You're an Montgomery groupie, and you didn't recognize me at the coffee cart? You were just picking up a _random_ woman old enough to be your mother?"

This hospital has a touchy-feely side, as Addison learns when Doctors Garrity and Leffler set her up with one on one "goal sessions" with her new residents. "My teachers never cared about my goals," she tried protesting, but it's hospital policy, so she sits on a roughly-upholstered couch across from Coffee Cart Guy - Gardener - legs crossed tightly, wondering how her life can already feel this ridiculous on her first day of work.

"You were wearing sunglasses. Your hair looks much different. You're taller than you look online - I don't know! It was early. And you are not old enough to be my mother. I mean, maybe my teenaged mother, but-"

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

"You don't really look like your picture," he trails off, finally.

"What picture?"

He flips his phone out of his pocket, presses a few buttons and shows it to her.

_10 Most Influention Surgeons of the New Millenium_

No wonder: it's an old, formally posed headshot, her hair a darker shade of red, in carefully set curls, the severe makeup she used to wear in New York. Involuntarily, she shudders a bit.

"They really need to update that picture. First of all, it's almost ten years old. Second of all, the early 21st century wasn't good to anyone."

He opens his mouth to reply and she cuts him off.

"Don't. Don't say it's a good picture, because it's not, and whatever you do, don't tell me what _you _were doing in 2002. Let me guess. Learning to write cursive? Riding a tricycle? Teething?"

"You know, ageism in the workplace violates the hospital's diversity policy," he says.

"File a complaint, then." She pushes the phone back at him.

"Does this mean coffee tomorrow is off?"

"I am your _teacher,_ Gardener. I'm not some doctor fantasy you read about in middle school. And I'm a tough teacher. And there are no points for flirting. _None._ Got that?"

"I got it."

"You work hard, you take care of the patients, you learn everything you can and then you work hard some more. I have a hell of a lot to teach, you _clearly_ have a lot to learn, and you'd better pay attention."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"And stop smiling!"

"Yes, Dr. Montgomery."

"All right, then. Let's talk about your goals. Your _professional_ goals," she adds hastily.

**X**

"Um, Sav...any chance you can move this Passover thing up a few days?" She balances her cell phone against her shoulder, sifting through still-unfamiliar keys to pull open the front door. The apartment still smells new, like no one lives here.

"I don't think so. It's kind of set in lunar calendar stone. Why, what's up?"

"Nothing, it's just I ... I think I want to talk."

"I'll be right over."

"You don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to. I _want _to."

When Addison pulls open the door Savvy's holding a bottle of red wine.

"Sav, you know I can't-"

"I know that. More for me."

Addison laughs, then to her embarrassment tears spring to her eyes. "Savvy, I-"

Savvy just walks into the foyer and wraps her in warm arms and the familiar scent of her perfume.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thanks to all who have been reading/reviewing! Please keep letting me know what you think. Next time: Addison talks to Savvy, attends her first Seder, and experiences some capital-i Intrigue.


	5. Next year right here

**Chapter Five - **_**Next Year Right Here**_

* * *

><p><em>"We're all mad here."<em>

(Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_)

* * *

><p><em>Passover (Pesach - PAY-sahc) is celebrated for seven or eight days (depending on the branch of Judaism), and begins on the 15th day of the Jewish month of Nissan. ...Most American Jews observe Passover to some extent, as a Seder dinner (SAY-der) on the first or second nights of Passover with their family. <em>Seder family meal on the first night of Pesach is filled with ritual to remind of all the significances of the holiday. Seder comes from the Hebrew root word meaning "order" because each part of the Seder meal is discussed in a specific order.<em>_

("A Gentile's Simplistic But Earnest Guide to Passover," _Charleston Examiner_)

* * *

><p>"So...do you remember the Bennetts? Our friends from medical school?"<p>

They're settled on the unfortunate white leather couch - which she's going to replace, she really is, as soon as she has time - each woman holding a full wineglass (Savvy's bearing pinot noir, Addison's perrier).

"Sure. She was one of your bridesmaids, right? And I _definitely _remember him." Savvy pretends to fan herself with one hand. "What a dreamboat. Those eyes- what?" Off Addison's expression, Savvy wrinkles her brow, then widens her blue eyes comically. "Oh my- _Him_? Really?"

Addison nods.

"Wow."

"Wow, what?"

"Wow, that is going to be a _very_ good-looking baby."

Addison laughs. "Thank you, I think..."

"How did all this...I mean, I didn't know them particularly well, but ... okay, Addie, just tell me everything."

"Well, they were divorced when I moved to California. Sam was my next door neighbor, and we...became close friends. I mean, we were all friends in med school, but he was really more Derek's friend back then - you know how it is, and-" she breaks off at Savvy's impatient look. "What?"

"Addie, will you _please_ get to the good part?"

"You told me to tell you everything!"

"Well, yeah, but I meant everything _juicy_. How about you just give me the bare bones first or something and then go back to the good stuff?"

Addison laughs. "Sorry. Okay, so: Sam and I. Friends. Then more than friends. And now," she takes a deep breath. "Now, I guess, less than friends."

Savvy bounces impatiently in place. "The good parts, Addie."

"Right."

And she walks Savvy carefully through the minefield of Sam-related memories: the undeniable chemistry of their friendship, the push and pull of longing as they gradually grew closer, the fear she'd lose Naomi if she cleaved to Sam, and then the reality of losing both of them.

Savvy squeezes her hand at the hard parts. "I'm so sorry, honey."

Addison squeezes back. It's less painful to talk about than she'd thought, more of a gentle sting, a fading bruise. "The weirdest part, Sav, is that he was _such_ a good friend. You know, I would have thought that he'd be...well..."

"...a better boyfriend?"

"Basically. You know, it's just - before we got together, I remember, I got sick - one of those disgusting fluey things. Sam came over and brought me soup, and ..." her voice trails off and she closes her eyes briefly, remembering his cool hand on her flushed face, his concerned eyes, the gentle way he'd tucked the blanket around her shivering shoulders. "...and he was so sweet and caring. And then right before I came out here, I was sick - well," she rests a hand meaningfully on her belly - "I thought I was sick, anyway. And forgive the image, but there I am with my head in the toilet bowl, throwing up and feeling _this close _to passing out, and Sam just stands in the doorway watching me and does absolutely nothing."

"_Nothing_?" Savvy shakes her head. "I mean, even a drunken sorority sister holds your hair back."

"You would know," Addison shoots back and Savvy grins.

"Nothing, really?"

"Nothing. He was totally uninterested, and it was just so... I mean, I don't know, Sav. He was so sweet when he was pursuing me and then..." she shakes her head. "The term 'letdown' is an understatement."

Savvy puts a hand on Addison's arm. "So...how do you think he's going to respond?"

"I don't know." Addison fiddles absently with the tassels of a throw pillow. "He was very clear that he wasn't interested in having more children. And I'm not interested in dealing with it right now. So," she smiles as brightly as she can and takes a sip of perrier. "Here we are."

"Here we are," Savvy agrees, drains her glass of wine, sets it on the glass coffee table and curls closer to Addison, resting her head against the back of the couchs.

"I really want this baby," Addison says quietly.

"I know you do."

"I want a child. And I'm fine with raising this child alone."

"I'm glad," Savvy says. "Because you're going to be an amazing mom. But Addie, just to be clear, you're _not _alone."

Addison blinks the remainder of tears out of her eyes. "Thanks, Sav."

Savvy pats her knee. "Okay. Now. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

Addison shakes her head.

"You need to eat, Addie. You're eating for two now. Plus I'm here and I'm starving so that makes four. Or five if we order something good. What are you in the mood for?"

Savvy whips out her phone and they pore over the local offerings, Addison marveling at how different this is from the way they used to shuffle through a kitchen drawer of paper menus - how different and yet how very much the same, Savvy's blond head bobbing as she laughs at the amount of food she's amassing in the electronic checkout.

"Don't you need to get home?" Addison asks.

"You trying to get rid of me?"

"Of _course_ not, Sav!"

Savvy flops back on the couch, wincing slightly at the squeaky sound the leather makes against the fabric of her shirt. "I'm in no rush. Hope is sound asleep, and if she wakes up for an emergency glass of water, she'd rather her father handle it anyway since she's got him wrapped around her finger and he'll be easily convinced to read her the hundredth princess story of the night." Savvy says all this in one breath, quickly, as she is wont to do and Addison grins at her.

Savvy grins back. "What?"

"Nothing, just - you're such a _mom_, Sav."

Savvy laughs. "That's kind of the way it goes, Addie - and so it will for you too."

"Yeah." Addison can't control the smile that pushes up the corners of her mouth - a combination of joy and anticipation. "Yeah, I guess it will."

"Anyway," Savvy gives Addison an affectionate nudge. "I need to eat lots of bread now because Passover starts on Monday. Don't forget, you're on the Seder list now, Addie."

**X**

She doesn't forget. She's curious, a bit hesitant and a tentative knock on Savvy and Weiss's door on Monday evening yields a house full of activity, delicious coking smells wafting about and excitement in the air.

"Addie!" Savvy throws her arms around her. She's wearing a bright yellow apron and there's a smudge of something on her cheek. "Welcome to the chaos."

She's embraced by numerous relatives before she has a chance to remove her coat. "Addie Montgomery, look at you!" Weiss's mother reaches up to pat her cheek after releasing her from a hug and says (Savvy and two of Weiss's sisters mouthing the words behind her) "Such a pretty face."

"We're running a little late, I'm sorry," Savvy apologizes, and Addison ends up in the bustling kitchen, full of near-bubbling-over pots, taking instruction from Weiss's older sister Melissa. "I can't really cook," Addison admits and Missy just shakes her head. "This isn't cooking, just think of it more like ... interior decorating." She passes Addison an enormous handful of greens. "Can you put those over there, there, there, and there?" she asks, pointing.

"Um, sure."

Savvy passes by, whispers in her ear "You're in it now!"

"Addie, I can't believe you got talked into coming." Weiss dips his head into the kitchen, a dark-haired child under each arm like a pair of footballs, and plants a kiss on her cheek. "Total chaos."

"It's great," Addison smiles as another sister swats at Weiss with a dishtowel.

"Out of here unless you're going to help!"

"Okay, okay," Weiss ducks back out again.

"Boys." Molly rolls her eyes. "Matty still gets to play with the kids while we do all the work."

_Matty_. Addison had almost forgotten that Weiss's immediate family were the only ones who refused - for obvious reasons - to call him Weiss. As Savvy had explained back when they were dating, Weiss was one of four Matthews in his kindergarten class, and his fragile five-year-old ego couldn't bear being Matthew W. for the rest of his schooling.

Addison watches his retreating back for a moment. Weiss and Derek had been fast friends when they were introduced, both cossetted sons from families of women, with similar sensibilities, and (crucially) Yankee fans. Addison had always liked his gentle, affectionate nature, his dry sense of humor, and most importantly the way he loved her friend. She wasn't surprised at all that their daughter had him under her thumb.

And then as if her thought summoned her, the child herself darts into the kitchen, ponytail swinging.

"I want to cook too!" Hope says, tugging at the hem of her mother's apron.

"You already helped, sweetie," Savvy says patiently as Melissa calls out, all in one breath, "GabbyDanielleJason! One of you come in here!"

A trail of cousins skids into the kitchen, a leggy preteen with the Weiss curly hair scooping up Hope and rolling her eyes. "She's really hard to hang onto! She's so fast!"

Hope beams.

"Try harder," Melissa mutters as they exit. "Sav, I swear, I should have put them in pickle jars when they were Hope's age. They were so cute and they never talked back."

"They're cute now," Savvy protests.

Melissa rolls her eyes. "They're not cute when they want to learn to drive. To _drive_, Savvy. Gabrielle crashed a tonka truck into her barbie dream house and I'm supposed to give her my keys?"

"That was ten years ago!"

"Well, it seems like yesterday."

Molly ladles something that smells heavenly into bowls. "I made Mike take TJ out in the car. I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

Addison slices celery on command, half an ear listening to the sister-in-law banter back and forth about their children. _That's going to be me,_ she realizes with a growing sense of wonder. _I'll stand in someone's kitchen - maybe even my kitchen - and talk about my child. _

Molly gives Addison a friendly smile. "You don't have kids, right Addison?"

"Uh, right," Addison says, feeling heat rising in her cheeks.

Savvy jumps in quickly: "Hope's getting pretty attached to her already, so we'll see. I'm hoping your brother and I can get a night off out of it, at least."

"Hope's a doll." Melissa sighs appreciatively. "I'm telling you, Savvy - pickle jar. Keep them small. Otherwise time just goes too quickly."

**X**

Savvy tugs Addison with her out of the kitchen, to the nearly-ready table. "Sorry about that," she murmurs.

Addison shakes her head. "No, don't be silly. You know I like your sisters-in-law."

"Good. I like them too," Savvy admits. "And Hope loves seeing her cousins. Now - let's get the wine poured," and she hoists an enormous jug of purple liquid.

"I'm pregnant, Sav." Addison whispers the reminder as she follows her friend around the large table.

"I know that! Don't worry, you don't need to tell anyone. We do grape juice here. We just call it wine. You know, Addie, you _are _going to start showing at some point."

"Yeah, I know."

"You still look skinny, though." Savvy sets down the wine jug, studying her friend. "Ugh. I hate you. Well, except for..."

"Except for what?"

"Your boobs look great, Addie," she says innocently, ducking when Addison looks down, then groans and rolls her eyes.

"Maybe that explains it."

"Explains what?" Savvy's eyes light up with interest.

"I'll tell you later."

They're sitting down before she knows it, Addison enjoying the pageantry and high spirits of the unfamiliar process. Weiss, a skullcap perched atop dark curls that are more salt and pepper now, prepares to lead the group from the head of the table.

Her seatmate is tall enough to have to lower himself carefully into the folding chair next to her. He holds out a polite hand to her once he's settled. "Tom," he says. "Dorset. I work with Weiss."

"Addison Montgomery." She takes his hand. "I've known Savvy since college."

"Have you been to one of these before?"

"Can't say I have."

"This is my third year. They usually seat me next to another gentile - something about safety in numbers, maybe?"

Addison smiles. "Maybe."

There's some kind of bustle in the kitchen, nothing starting yet, so they continue to exchange pleasantries.

Tom shakes his head when Addison tells him what she does. "A surgeon..."

"What?"

"It's just - when I was starting out at the firm, the partners used to tell us on stressful days - 'Look, it's not surgery, we're not going to kill any patients tonight.' How do you handle that when it actually _is _surgery?"

Addison shrugs. "We just tell them if they kill any patients, we'll call in the lawyers to deal with it."

"Touche," he smiles. He has dimples, she notices. Dimples, and hazel eyes with green flecks.

Not that that matters, of course, because he's just her seatmate.

To prove it, she makes a point of looking directly into the eyes of the person on her other side - it's Weiss's little sister, Rachael (her eyes are brown, with very long eyelashes), who gives her a quizzical look in return. "What?"

"Nothing," Addison mutters, embarrassed. "Um, I was just noticing your...earrings."

Her ears are bare.

"I mean your necklace."

"Oh." Rachael touches the silver cord around her neck. "Well, thanks."

"Let's get started," Weiss says then, and Addison smiles with relief.

**X**

The doorbell rings a few minutes into the proceedings.

"Brady!" Savvy stands on tiptoe to embrace a tall, apologetic man in the doorway. "I'm so glad you made it. Hey, Spence. Come on in. The kids' table is hopping and we've missed you."

Addison glances at the tall man as he sits down. There's a faraway expression in his deep-set eyes, which are warm when he turns his gaze on his son. Spencer has found a place at the children's table. Hope, proving herself as chatty as her mother, is eagerly showing him her children's Passover Hagaddah, giggling as she points out the pictures.

Addison knows who he is, of course. They've met, though she's not sure Brady would remember. Certainly she's heard stories, and she can tell by the slightly awkward hush that falls over the table on his arrival that she is not the only one. Even in a family touched repeatedly by tragedy, Brady's story stands out. It's the kind of story people exchange in whispers, shaking their heads. _It was so fast,_ they say. _Raising that little boy all on his own_. _Pregnant...wanted a child...refused treatment...so sad_, they always say. _So sad. Just tragic._

Addison knew of Ellery before she knew her, Savvy's so-close-they're-almost-sisters cousin. Their mothers _were _sisters, and as a result the cousins grew up intertwined like two sweet southern peas, Elly and Savvy, born barely three months apart. Their childhoods were full of joint birthday parties, of _are you two twins_? misunderstandings. They had the exact same shade of blue eyes. They grew their hair to the same length. At Savvy's wedding, Ellery and Addison were co-maids of honor in blush-colored tea dresses and garlands of white roses. Addison hadn't even realized Ellery was sick until Savvy made quick reference to it during her brief Seattle visit, and then she'd been so distracted with her own life...

It was a vicious gene. An unforgiving disease.

First it took the two sisters: Marianne, then Katherine. Marianne's daughter, Ellery, ill at only 38, gone before the joint fortieth birthday the cousins had planned for years. Then Katherine's daughter taking the only step she could to prevent the disease from stealing the rest of her birthdays too.

This was what people talked about in hushed whispers. _Had to stop the treatment. She always wanted a baby. _In the end she was gone before his second birthday.

Addison rests an unconscious hand against her belly. At the children's table, Hope giggles again, tugging at the sleeve of her blue-eyed cousin, and an older child shushes her gently.

**X**

She sees Brady again between courses, when she slips into the kitchen on another assignment from Melissa.

"Do you know where a carving fork might-" Addison breaks off, realizing the slump-shouldered posture is more than holiday exhaustion. "Oh! Excuse me," and she starts to back away.

"You don't need to go," he says, not turning around.

She stands rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry. It's just hard."

She nods sympathetically.

"Ellery loved holidays. _Loved_ them. Easter, Thanksgiving - Christmas was her favorite - but anyone's holidays would do. I think she was more excited than Weiss when Savvy converted. All these new holidays. She bought a book and then she went and papered down the whole kitchen with this plastic stuff and made a kugel and all of these things I couldn't even pronounce. She was pregnant and she was so excited."

"I remember her," Addison says softly. "She was wonderful."

"I wasn't sure about coming tonight, but Spence - Ellery would have wanted him to come and be with his cousins. She would have wanted to come too."

"Daddy? Are you in here?"

Spencer's little voice wafts through the kitchen. He's halfway through the door when Addison sees Brady's shoulders tense, understands he doesn't want his son to see him like this. Automatically she moves to intervene.

"Hey, Spence, your dad's getting some things ready for the next course - I think I saw Hope making headway on finding that matzo; you want to go help her?" She extends a hand.

"Did she find it?" he asks with interest.

"Not yet, but she's getting close. How about we go catch her?"

Spencer slips his hand into hers. "Okay," he says agreeably.

When Brady slides back into his seat across the table, he looks calm again.

"Thanks - for before," he murmurs when Addison passes him a heavy ceramic bowl of something orange (and sweet, and delicious, she realizes).

"Of course."

**X**

In between conversation with Tom, who is surprisingly easy to talk to, Addison finds herself watching the children's table. Surrounded by older cousins, Hope looks even tinier. At times they laugh and jostle and poke each other; at other times, at other time, like when they carefully pass a basket of matzo and make sure Hope gets her share, they almost seem like small adults.

"I found it! Look, Addie, I found it!" Hope jumps up and down in a throng of cousins, waving the prized hidden matzo.

"Great job!" Addison cheers. She studies Hope's small, delighted face, thinking about her own child. She wants her to have family too. A community. A throng of cousins and friends. A room full of people who love her.

Hope lounges against Addison's chair. "Now I get a present."

"After," Savvy corrects, reaching for her hand. "Come back to your seat and eat, Hopie.

Hope pulls away. "Want to sit with Addie."

"Hope-"

"It's okay." Addison lifts Hope into her lap.

"When I was her age I used to fall asleep before the festive meal," Weiss admits.

"You were asleep before the middle matzo!" his mother objects and a ripple of laughter moves across the table.

Sure enough, Hope snuggles against her, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

_Next year in Jerusalem, _they say as part of the seder. _Next year right here in New York, _Addison says to herself. She cuddles Hope closer.

_And next year I'll be holding my own child. _

**X**

Addison's nearly ready to fall asleep herself by the time the festive meal ends. She's stuffed - Savvy hadn't been kidding about distraction. The children have long since escaped to the playroom, many of the little ones asleep, when Addison bundles into her coat and makes her good-byes.

"This was amazing," she tells Savvy as she kisses her cheek.

"Really?" Savvy leans back. "You can't tell I'm a convert?"

"Definitely not," Addison assures her, for what it's worth. "Kiss Hope good-bye for me, okay?"

Flushed with the heavy meal, she lowers the window in the taxi, lets the cool breeze waft through her hair. She checks her cell phone - two missed calls from Nancy.

"Is everything okay? Was there something in the labs?"

"_Yes_, Addie, everything's fine. You're such a worrier."

Addison releases a sigh of relief. "What's going on then?"

"Guess who's going to be in the city on Thursday?"

"I don't think I can handle a guessing game right now, Nance."

So she tells her and Addison suppresses a groan. For the third time in a week all she can think - and this time she says it out loud too - is "You have _got_ to be kidding."

Lost in thought, she almost forgets to tell the driver to turn on Second Avenue.

_It's going to be a hell of a week._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Apologies for leaving you hanging again, but if the show is going to torture me every week then I'm going to have some fun with this story, gosh darn it. This chapter was _long_ - but then Addison did ask for distractions, and I like Weiss's family. Next time: a surprise guest in NYC, more of Addison's students, and a little bit of seder fallout. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought!

**Attribution**: Savvy's line "even a drunken sorority sister holds your hair back" is shamelessly lifted from the poster **nycanna** on Television Without Pity. I have no idea if she reads this site, but if she does, my sincere apologies/thanks for the theft - it was too awesome and too Savvy not to use in this story.


	6. In the city when two worlds collide

**Chapter 6 - I Like It in the City When Two Worlds Collide**

* * *

><p><em>"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.<br>"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."  
>"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.<br>"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."_

(Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_)

* * *

><p>She waits until the next morning to draft the email, armed with decaf and a bagel and a merciful fifteen minutes before her students descend.<p>

_I heard you were presenting at AACS. I don't know if you heard, but I'm back in_

That's ridiculous. Of course he's heard, if he spoke to Nancy. She shifts in her desk chair, rolling slightly back and forth as she thinks.

_I guess you know I moved back to New York. Not sure if you'll have time on Thursday, but_

Too hesitant. This is no big deal, after all.

_I can get to the west side in the morning if you want to meet for coffee beforehand in midtown, or_

Too wordy.

_Hey. I heard_

Hey is for horses, Bizzy would have scolded.

_Hi. Heard you're speaking at AACS on Thursday. I'm around if you want to -_

A new outlook message pops up at the bottom of her screen, interruping the stream of drafts. Somewhere between relieved and amused, she clicks open the new message:

_Hey. Speaking at AACS on Thursday. Breakfast in midtown first?_

Well. That makes things easier. She hits reply, the hard work mercifully complete, and calmly replies in the affirmative.

Then she takes a nice, deep breath - and calls Savvy.

"Slow down. I can't understand you."

"Sav - Mark - New York - here -"

"String the words together, honey," Savvy requests patiently. "I'm just getting the morse code version here."

"Mark is coming to New York on Thursday, I just agreed to meet him, and in the most dignified and mature possible way I'm kind of freaking out."

"You're kind of freaking out. Because - "

"Because I'm-" she lowers her voice to whisper - "_secretly pregnant!_" she hisses.

"This is like a telenovela, Addie. I love it," Savvy says gleefully.

"How about a little sympathy?"

"I'm sympathetic, I swear. Look, I'll come by tonight after Hope goes down. We'll find you something appropriately non-maternal to wear."

Addison sinks lower in her chair. "Great."

"And if Enrique and his sister show up, what you need to tell Maria is-"

"Not funny, Sav!"

"It's a little funny."

"Dr. Montgomery?"

Addison looks up to see one of her students at her office door. "I've got to run - I'll see you tonight, Sav."

"Cortez? What can I do for you?"

"I'm here for my weekly goal meeting."

Addison grips the armrests of her desk chair, decides it would be rude to tell Cortez her own weekly goal is to have fewer goal meetings, and invites him in.

Tonight can't come soon enough.

**X**

"Addie, you're not showing. You look perfect, as always. What's the problem?"

Addison turns slightly to the side, frowns at the gap between the top two buttons of her blouse. "Sav-"

"Don't even think of complaining about your boobs, Addie. They look amazing."

"Thank you, Savvy. I was really hoping you'd notice," Addison rolls her eyes. "Look, you know the issue. I can't let anyone else find out until I tell Sam. And I can't tell him, not yet. And Mark-" she breaks off.

"You think he's going to figure it out?"

Addison shrugs, turning to the other side as she smoothes the blouse over her midsection.

"Why?"

A slow flush rises in her cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I'm just being silly."

"You're not being silly." Savvy pulls her legs underneath her, setting back on Addison's bed. "Look, Addie, you don't need to do this if it's going to stress you out."

"He's only in town for a day."

"You can still say no."

"I know, but..." she trails off and Savvy throws her a sympathetic smile.

"I get it, Addie, I do. You know, it's okay to want to see him."

"It's not that. I mean, it's just - I don't know. It's been a while."

"I know."

"And it's only right that until Sam knows," Addison says, changing the subject just enough to stay in her comfort zone and hoping Savvy won't object, "I have to keep the pregnancy under wraps."

"Literally," Savvy observes as Addison shrugs into a loose, hip skimming cardigan and winds it around her waist. "And speaking of people finding out, I really can't just tell Weiss? He'll keep it to himself. I don't think he's spoken to Sam since your wedding."

"He talks to Derek."

"Once in a blue moon, Addie! And even then, nothing more than Christmas greetings or railing about the Sox."

"Sav...I'm really not trying to be difficult here, I just don't want to risk it."

"Okay," Savvy says agreeably. "But you should know that you owe me. Weiss is pretty good at reading me after all these years. He can tell something's up and every time he starts asking questions I have to shut him up the old-fashioned way."

"Savvy!"

"Don't get me wrong, he's pretty happy with the status quo, but I can't keep this up forever, Addie. I'm _tired._"

Addison laughs, slinging an arm around Savvy's neck. "You're a good friend, Sav."

Savvy wraps her own arm around Addison's waist. "Don't forget that when I ask you to baby-sit."

**X**

Thursday approaches far too fast. She could have said no, of course, feigned a surgery, but ... it's just breakfast, after all. And it's already Wednesday, the one day a week Nancy holds office hours in Manhattan.

"You keeping down more food?"

Addison nods, adjusting herself slightly on the table as Nancy runs the wand over her stomach. "Mostly, yeah."

"You're getting close to the end of your first trimester, Addie."

"I know."

"At some point soon, you may want to tell more people. Get a little more support."

"Nancy, I just - I don't know what could happen." Automatically her hand floats toward her belly, then springs back when it meets cold, sticky gel. "I know I'm high risk, I don't want to -"

"Here, sit up." Nancy sets down the wand, strokes the gel away with a towel and offers Addison a hand.

"Look, Addie, I'll tell you what my doctor said with every one of my pregnancies. A pregnant OB is a dangerous thing - we know everything that can go wrong, we've seen every possible complication, so it's hard not to worry, to think about what can go wrong. But," and she makes another mark on her clipboard, "everything looks good right now. More than good. Great. And for a first pregnancy, you-" Nancy breaks off at Addison's look. "What?"

"It's not," Addison says softly.

"What's not?"

Addison concentrates, hard, on a spot over Nancy's left shoulder. "It's, uh... it's not my first pregnancy."

Nancy's brow furrows slightly and she glances at the blue folder on her lap. "There's no other pregnancy mentioned in your file."

Addison just regards her silently.

"Oh." Nancy blinks. "Okay. Addison...as a doctor you know how important it is to a have a full and complete medical history in your file..."

"As a doctor, yes, I know that."

Nancy closes the file folder, looks straight at her. "When?"

"Do you need to know?"

"Medically? Not necessarily, but generally speaking, the more information your OB has, the better for you and your baby. And personally - as your doctor and as your friend - this is something that can ...resonate... more as your pregnancy develops. I've seen it. So my preference, and my medical recommendation, is to know."

Her voice is quiet, but steady. "About four years ago."

She watches Nancy's eyes narrow slightly as she calculates, mentally, then widen again. "Addie," she says gently.

"I, uh, I stayed with Mark after Derek left me," Addison offers, her throat tightening slightly, because why not spill everything at once. "For a couple of months. And I...we..."

"It's okay. I already knew you stayed with him," Nancy cuts in, mercifully.

"You did?"

"Derek told me. In Seattle, years ago."

"You never said anything."

Nancy shrugs. "It's not really my business, is it, Addie? Or anyone else's. What's done is done."

Addison smooths the lightweight gown over her thighs, studies her hands. "When I found out I had only two eggs left, I thought - I mean I worried - that because of what I did-"

"Addison, with all your training, how could you possibly think that?"

Tears spring to her eyes. "I don't know. I just did."

Nancy reaches for one of her hands, gives it a quick, hard squeeze. "I'm _glad _you told me. So I can talk you out of things like that if you ever think them again. And I'll tell you from experience, pregnancy can make you think some ridiculous things. Okay?"

Addison draws a long, shaky breath. "Okay."

"You're seeing Mark when he's in town?"

She nods. "You?"

"I'm in Stamford tomorrow, so I'm going to miss him, but, Addie - is this going to -"

"No," she says firmly. "He's an old friend, that's all he is now, Nance. Friends are good."

"Yeah." Nancy nods. "They are. Just be careful, Addie, okay?" she adds, offering Addison a hand down from the exam table.

"Physically, you mean?"

"Not exactly, but - look, just call me if you need anything."

"I will."

"And Addie, I-" Nancy breaks off and wraps her arms around a surprised Addison, whose arms slowly come up to embrace her back.

"Nance?"

"Sorry." Nancy pulls back. "Looks, Ads, I know you're not alone, I know you have support, but pregnancy - it can be tough. I just want you to know I'm here too."

"I do know that." Addison swallows hard. "And I appreciate it."

"Good." Nancy nods briskly, back to her no-nonsense self. "I'll see you in two weeks, and we can talk about cutting back to a sensible work schedule," she says and Addison makes a face in response.

**X**

Nancy's Park Avenue office is an easy walk to Savvy and Weiss's place, and Addison finds herself there that evening, sipping perrier with Savvy while - from the amount of shrieking coming from the second floor - Weiss is either trying to put Hope to bed or wrestling a sack of angry cats.

Savvy sighs. "She doesn't want to miss any fun, that's the problem."

"Reminds me of someone," Addison jokes.

"So, who's the guy?"

"Wait, what? There's no guy."

"You said 'that explains it.' At Seder, remember? And you said you'd tell me later."

"I did?"

"Don't you even try that, Addison. I know you have a memory like a steel trap. You only forget the things you don't want to tell me, and that's completely unfair when they're this potentially interesting. Who's the guy?"

Addison rolls her eyes, annoyed - though admittedly touched - that Savvy knows her as well as she does. "There's no _guy_, Sav. Not really. There's a student. But he's not a guy. He's a child. He's twenty-seven. _Twenty-seven._ His name is Elliot, for crying out loud. He was named for a character in E.T. _E.T_., Savvy! I saw that movie in the theater. Phil Davidson tried to feel me up during the previews - "

"So you're a cougar," Savvy says mildly. "Very hip. Wait, do people still say hip? I'm actually not even sure if they say cougar."

"I am not a cougar. And I didn't even realize he was my student when he asked me out. The kids are very forward these days, apparently."

Savvy nods. "There's TV in cabs now too, Addie. A lot has changed since you've been away. So are you going to go out with him?"

"He's my student, Savvy! Do you date the children who work for you at the firm?"

"No, but they're all _horrible._ And I suppose technically I'm married."

"Technically?"

"Addie, we're talking about your love life, not mine. Although mine, as you know, is far too active, thanks to you."

Addison can't help laughing at that. "I'm sorry, Sav. Let me just get through the first - soon, okay?"

Savvy nods agreeably. "Of course, Addie, but payback is that I want to know everything about the guy."

"There's no guy!"

"What guy?"

They'd been too busy talking to notice the din upstairs had ceased. Weiss, looking somewhat worse for the wear with sleeves rolled up and his curls mussed, drops onto the couch next to Savvy.

"No guy. There's no guy, Weiss," Addison says wearily.

"Oh, just Addie's ever-eventful love life," Savvy sighs.

"She's in high demand," Weiss observes. "Tom Dorset hasn't stopped talking about her since the Seder."

"That's has nothing to do with -" Addison breaks off. "Really?"

"Really."

"Huh."

"Typical Addie." Savvy rolls her eyes. "Everyone wants to date her. Guys used to ask her out in the library in college. The _library._ You're not even supposed to talk in the library!"

"I bet you broke that rule, Sav," Weiss teases. When she goes to swat him he catches her hand and pulls her into his arms.

Addison watches silently over the rim of her glass as Weiss steals a kiss and Savvy, laughing helplessly, rests her head against his shoulder.

**X**

Thursday morning. Cashmere shell with a little extra room, not-quite-closed blazer, and she's leaning against the ivy-laced brick wall of Cafe Lucerne waiting for Mark who is - unsurprisingly - late.

She pushes off the wall when she sees him approach, his eyes lighting up with what she assumes is recognition.

"You look good, Addie." Mark grins. "Did you change your...hair or something?" His gaze locks on her breasts and Addison rolls her eyes, tugging the edges of her blazer as close together as she can.

"You look good too," she says, although truthfully she thinks he's a bit too thin.

"How've you been?" she inquires once they're settled at a table.

"Great. Busy. You know how it is, all baby, all the time - Addison, hey, you okay?" he asks as she splutters around a mouthful of pellegrino.

"I'm fine," she says quickly, coughing a few more times and swiping the linen napkin across her mouth with finality. "Sorry, I guess I swallowed wrong. Tell me more about the baby. How's Callie feeling - remind me how far along she is now?"

She manages to keep her beverages down as they catch up and address plates of food - Mark's tucked into with gusto, Addison's forked into neat but mostly uneaten piles. _Now would be a good time to keep down some food, kiddo_, she thinks, but her stomach is unquestionably shaky and she doesn't want to risk it.

"I thought you liked this place." Mark frowns at her still-full plate.

"I do." She pushes the food into smaller and hopefully less obvious piles.

"You're not eating. You want some champagne?"

_Desperately._

"It's eight a.m., Mark."

"A mimosa. Totally respectable. Come on, I need something to survive the deadly lectures I'm facing."

"I can't." She shakes her head. "I have a surgery. Sorry."

He shrugs one shoulder. "Suit yourself."

The rest of the breakfast is a mix of medical small talk and catching up on mutual acquaintances. It's less difficult than she feared it would be, really. The black linen napkin covers her still-flat stomach from the outside; inside, the knot of nausea eases just enough to allow her to taste the food she remembers as delicious. She can do this. She can live a new life, she can talk to people from an old life, and the world keeps turning.

"Keep me posted about the baby," she says as they part ways. He nods, drops a businesslike kiss on her cheek - not that his familiar lips don't have more of a burn than they should - and gives her one last appraising glance before he leaves.

"What?" she asks finally, slightly unnerved under his bright blue gaze.

"Whatever you did to your hair, Addie - you should keep doing it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Oh, Mark. This chapter was close to finalized before this week's Private Practice, and you'll note I stuck to a more traditional interpretation of the NY/Seattle timeline (as one can with a seriously A/U endeavor) Plus, it just makes more sense. Next time: more students, the return of a lawyer, and a phone call that could change everything! Thanks as always for reading and please let me know your thoughts - I love hearing them and I appreciate your taking the time to share them. **

**(Title from the fabulous Adele, _Hometown Glory_)**


	7. She got the call today

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long delay between chapters. Now that _The Girl Who Collects Shells _is finished, you can expect much more frequent updates to this story. It's going somewhere (believe it or not), so please keep reading and letting me know your thoughts - they're much appreciated!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - She Got the Call Today<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"Have some wine," the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.<br>__Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. "I don't see any wine," she remarked.  
><em>_"There isn't any," said the March Hare.  
><em>_"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it," said Alice angrily.  
><em>_"It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited," said the March Hare._

(Lewis Carroll_, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)_

* * *

><p>"Addie, come with me," Savvy whispers, pulling her aside. Addison can't help but smile at this, Savvy has the exact same cat-with-the-cream expression as she did twenty-five years ago when she visited the Montgomery estate for the first time. <em>Addie, come with me<em>, she'd whispered then too, tugging Addison by the hand. Addison had followed her out to the gazebo, not even surprised that Savvy was leading Addison around in her own home. She was used to Savvy dragging her places: parties, the study nook in the library where the cute seniors liked to gather. The time at the estate, Savvy had uncurled her hand to reveal two carefully rolled joints, which she and Addison had make short work of in the warm late-spring air, giggling to near hysterics until hunger drove them back to the house. The cook had commented somewhat drily on their unusual appetites, but had handed over a basket of freshly baked muffins and a plate of cold duck without question. "Come on!" Savvy whispers again now, her face so bright with anticipation that it might be the 80s all over again.

Except her hair looks much better.

Addison grabs her outstretched hand and lets Savvy pull her up the stairs of their duplex.

"Sav?"

"We'll be down in a minute, Weiss," Savvy calls over her shoulder. She pauses on the stairs at Weiss's raised brow. "Girl talk, okay? Keep an eye on Hope."

"What's going on, Sav?" Her only response is to tug Addison faster behind her toward the bedroom.

"I have to give you something."

"You mean other than a stitch in my side?"

"Shh! I don't want them to hear."

Hoping Savvy is saying no to drugs these days, Addison lowers her voice obediently and whispers back. "Okay, what do you want to give me, Savvy? This is a little strange, I'm not going to lie, and - oh," her voice trails off as Savvy presses a book into her hands. It's pale green with a whispery print and a thick brown satin binding on the spine.

"It's a baby book." Savvy touches her arm gently. "I know you can't say everything you want to say yet, to everyone, so - well, you can write down what you want to say to the baby in here."

"Thank you, Sav." Addison swallows hard. "It's beautiful."

"See, there's a slot for every week, and all sort of places to put information so you can keep up with - well, you know. Anyway, I didn't want to be presumptuous-"

"You could never be presumptuous, Savvy."

"Weiss would disagree with you there. But I figured you didn't have a baby book yet."

"I didn't."

"Well, now you do."

Addison hugs her. As she has so many times in the past, Savvy's anticipated what Addison needs before she could think of it herself. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Now hide it before anyone sees."

She doesn't have to ask twice.

**X**

"Girl talk's all finished?" Weiss asks when they troop downstairs. He's spreading dinner out on the dining room table. Hope, holding a fork in each hand, turns around to greet them.

"I'm a girl too," she says. "I can do girl talk."

"You sure can." Savvy tweaks a lock of Hope's shiny hair. "Are you setting the table, sweetie?"

"No," Hope says, furrowing her small brow. "These are my two forks."

"Oh." Savvy laughs. "I should have realized." Hope smiles back and seizes another fork from the table.

"What's going on with you two?" Weiss asks.

"Nothing, honey. We're just getting reacquainted, that's all - hey, Hopie, you can have as many forks as you want but you can't have a knife. Give it to Daddy right now. Weiss-"

Weiss, who's standing closer, relieves Hope of the knife and helps her into her booster seat.

"I want to sit next to Addie," Hope pipes up.

Addison slides into the seat next to her.

"You can share my forks, Addie," Hope says grandly.

"Thank you," Addison says sincerely. Maybe it's her hormones talking, but she's rather touched at the gifts she's been receiving from both Weiss women tonight.

Savvy's cooking is excellent as always. Addison's stomach cooperates, thank goodness, everything staying exactly where it's supposed to until Weiss says "Hey Addie, Tom Dorset asked me for your phone number," and Addison coughs a mouthful of water into her napkin.

"Really?" Savvy raises an eyebrow.

"Really," Weiss confirms. "You okay?" he asks Addison, who is still spluttering.

"Yes. Fine. I-"

"You remember him from seder, right?"

"I do."

"He's a good guy. I've known him for a - what?" he asks off Savvy's glare. "I'm just saying!"

"That's really flattering, Weiss," Addison says carefully. "But-"

"He's not your type?"

Actually, he's rather spot on her type, but that's beside the point. "Uh, it's not that, it's-"

"Don't push, Weiss," Savvy scolds.

"Who's pushing?" he protests. "A guy we know and like happens to want to take our dear friend here to dinner and I'm just curious about why it's a no-go."

"Maybe Addie doesn't want to go out with him."

"Maybe she does!"

"I'm right here, you two," Addison says wearily. "Look, Weiss, Tom seems like a good guy, and I really did enjoy talking with him at seder, but-" she breaks off. Three pairs of eyes watch her with interest: one bright blue, one brown, and one nearly black and framed with impossibly long eyelashes.

"I just moved back here, and..." she trails off again.

"Sure, tell him to give me a call," she says finally. She barely has a second to process this - _What am I getting myself into_? when a small hand tugs hard on her sleeve. Hope.

"Addie, I need my fork back now," Hope says cheerfully.

"Hopie, you already have two other forks," Savvy protests gently.

"I need _that_ fork."

"Hope..."

"Here," Addison hands it to her quickly. "I was finished anyway."

Hope rewards her with a big smile, flashing pearly little teeth. "Can we do girl talk now?"

Weiss shakes his head, gazing at his daughter with pure affection. "Three sisters," he says, shaking his head. "I sort of thought I'd get a little more testosterone on my side later on."

Savvy bites her lip and Addison remembers the picture her friend showed her at dinner when she first arrived. The small boy with shining dark eyes.

"Honey," Weiss's tone is gentle. "I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean..."

"It's okay." Savvy stands up quickly, takes her plate and Addison's, and escapes to the kitchen. Weiss starts to rise from his chair, looking like he wants to follow her, when Hope's arm slips, knocking her plate to the floor. The pink plastic doesn't break but the remains of her dinner scatter across the floor.

"Oops," Hope's lip trembles.

Weiss's attention is immediately diverted. "Just an accident, Hopie. Come on, you can help me clean it up." He lifts her down from her booster seat and cradles her in one arm while he wipes at the floor with the other. He gives Addison an apologetic glance over his daughter's head.

Addison nods and heads for the kitchen to find Savvy. She finds her leaning against the island, a faraway look in her eyes.

"You okay, Sav?"

"Yeah." Savvy nods. "I am, I'm just - just thinking."

Addison waits in companionable silence. The beauty of a quarter-century friendship is that no one has to push anyone to talk. There will always be more time.

When Savvy finally speaks, she says: "I'm sorry you got cornered in there."

"What? Oh, the Tom thing? No, don't be sorry."

"Weiss is protective of his partners. And you. He kept saying you need to meet more people. And of course he doesn't know-"

"Right."

"And Tom really is a lovely guy, Addie, I've known him for years."

"I know. It's fine, Sav. It's sweet of Weiss to look out for me, and - really, it's fine. It's just dinner."

Just dinner. Just a dinner date with the partner of the husband of the only friend to whom she's revealed her secret pregnancy with the child of a man who doesn't know he's about to become a father.

_That's going to look great in the baby book._

**X**

When the phone rings later that night she's sitting cross-legged on the white leather couch she still hasn't replaced, the baby book spread open on her knees. It's Amelia, and Addison is flooded with guilt that she can't share the exciting news with her former sister-in-law just yet. It's not that she doesn't want to - she does, desperately, wants to hear Amelia's excited squawks and elaborate plans and enthusiasm. But it's not fair to her, not when she lives next door to Sam and works with him every day, to ask her to keep this secret. It would be too much. She'll tell her soon - as soon as she tells Sam.

But that doesn't make her feel much better when Amelia's familiar voice chirps down the line. "Addie! I haven't talked to you in ages. What've you been doing?"

_Avoiding you._ Not really, but she knows it will be harder to keep the secret the more she talks to Amelia, so admittedly she's been slow to return her calls.

"It's been so hectic settling in - with the new job and the ... and everything..." she trails off. "How have you been? How's everyone doing back - there?"

Amelia laughs. "You make it sound like they're all in storage or something. Okay, let's see: Charlotte and Cooper are still engaged. Pete is claiming Lucas can read but actually he's just making animal noises at the appropriate times when Violet turns the pages. Um..."

"You can tell me about Sam and Nai," she prompts gently. "I don't mind."

"Okay. Well, Naomi's at his place a lot. They invited me to cook out with them last night but I pretended to have a meeting and then..."

"Amelia, what did you do?" Addison asks after a few more seconds of silence.

"I spied on them from your bedroom."

"Amelia!"

"I was just curious. But it was a huge pain - I had to keep all the lights out so they wouldn't see me and I banged my shins on your credenza."

Addison rolls her eyes even though she knows Amelia can't see her. "Was it worth it?"

"Nah. They just looked like some old married couple."

In spite of herself Addison feels a pang. Not because of Sam and Naomi, exactly. Not because she misses him, and not because she wants to be with him. But because she always thought she'd end up the other half of an old married couple: cooking out and drinking wine in comfortable silence or laughing at things no one else would remember or get. For a flash of a second she wraps herself in self-pity - she's alone, isn't she? Pregnant and alone - and then just as quickly she casts it off. She's not alone. She's carrying the child she never thought she'd be lucky to bear. Some of her oldest friends are twenty blocks away. All she would have to do is say the word and the former sister-in-law - sister, really - on the other end of the phone would be in it a hundred percent.

She realizes, though, that this miracle pregnancy won't feel completely real until she can talk about it. Until it's something she can wear with pride instead of hiding under empire-waisted tops. She needs to figure out how to tell Sam. And soon.

"Addie, you there?"

"I'm here."

"So when can I come visit you?"

Now that's a twist she hadn't considered.

"Anytime," she says bravely, figuring the frantic schedule of a surgeon will keep this issue from rearing up too soon.

They chat for a few more minutes, Addison idly flipping through the pages of the baby book. There's a whole page just for relatives and friends, and her eyes blur a bit at the listings for aunts. _Auntie Amelia,_ she had cooed in Addison's office, thrilled at the thought of a pregnancy. She's going to be so excited.

Maybe she could tell her very carefully...

No. Sam needs to know first. It's only fair to all parties. She swallows hard on the truth instead and thanks Amelia again for taking care of Milo ("Hey, I get a sweet beach house out of it," Amelia points out).

"I miss you, Addie," Amelia says just before she hangs up. "Milo does too. He keeps rubbing his face on the shoes you left behind."

"He does?" She misses the little furball too.

"Cats show emotion in the strangest ways," Amelia says innocently. "Me, I just borrow the shoes."

"Amelia...they're much too big for you. They'll fall off."

"Not if I have them re-soled."

"Amelia!"

"Just kidding."

Addison laughs in spite of herself, one hand resting on her belly. _You're going to love Auntie Amelia as much as I do, baby,_ she thinks, and when she hangs up that's the first thing she writes in the baby book.

**X**

Three days later she stands in her closet, tossing first one article of clothing aside and then another, feeling much like she used to on free dress days in high school. Nothing looks right, nothing fits perfectly, and she's already wishing she could crawl under the covers instead of going out. She runs a hand reassuringly over her belly. _Let's just get through this one date, and then everything will be fine. _

Or will it? She hasn't read every page of the baby book, but she's pretty sure Baby's First Time Surreptitiously Joining Mommy on a Date with a Distressingly Handsome Lawyer isn't one of the fill-in categories.

_You and I might need our own special book, kiddo,_ Addison thinks ruefully.

She finds a forgiving black cocktail dress, one she's had for years. Maybe stuffy, definitely not trendy - add splashes of color, she thinks automatically. Splashes of color to distract the eye from ... she checks her reflection again. She's gained six pounds - she told Savvy this on the phone in a panic and Savvy hung up on her (then called back and promised Addison she would wait until the end of her pregnancy to yell at her for her ridiculousness). From what she can tell, 80% of that weight gain is in her breasts. There's a fine line between a classy cocktail dress and a cocktail waitress uniform, she realizes, turning to the side and sucking in her stomach. To make sure she stays on the right side of that line, she adds a peacock blue scarf. There. No one would be able to guess her secret.

_Sorry, baby,_ she adds, letting her hand rest again on her carefully concealed stomach. _I can't wait to tell the world about you. I just need a little more time._

**X**

The day before date night means she's dressed, ready ... and stuck in a room with her students and their inexhaustible need to chatter. Privately, she blames the weekly goal meetings, the rather touchy feely nature of the program (unadvertised, as she reminds them frequently), and the general millennial culture of navel gazing.

"I like your scarf, Dr. Montgomery," Herschel says brightly, after she's already been redirected twice.

Addison nods her acknowledgement. "Keep it going. Let's finish up here."

"Are you going somewhere tonight?"

"What kind of a -" Addison shakes her head. "Can we try to keep our focus, please?"

"Dr. Poletti says that at this point in our training, we should be able to perform sutures while making conversation," Gardener pipes in. "He says it's a sign of increasing skill."

"Oh he does, does he."

"Yup. So, it would be okay for you to answer Lauren's question - it won't distract us."

Addison lifts an eyebrow at him. Fresh kid. "We'll let Dr. Poletti run his own experiments. Herschel, please focus on the patient. Gardener, you should be observing. _Silently,_" she adds as he opens his mouth. "Unless you have a question."

"I do have a question."

"Yes, Gardener?"

"What are you doing to-"

"A question about the patient, Gardener!"

"Sorry."

"Sorry," Herschel adds, fingers flying. She pulls back. "All done."

"Nice work," Addison praises, studying the neat stitches. "Let's move on."

"Now that she's done-"

"_No_, Gardener."

**X**

Date night. After a good-natured neighborhood debate they end up in TriBeCa at one of the many not-quite-fusion, not-quite-local, not-quite-tapas places that seem to have taken over during Addison's absence. If the amuse bouche is any indicator, it's going to be both delicious and pungent, so she wills her digestive system to help her out just this one more time.

Tom is, by all accounts, an excellent date - a gentleman. He opens doors for her and waits for her to sit before he does, but in an unobtrusive fashion that's more courtly than condescending. His dimples flash when he chews (quietly and subtly, of course), and he actually seems interested in the answers to the questions he poses.

Not that that matters, of course. This isn't a real date - she's just being polite to Weiss. She's throwing him a bone. The fact that the man across from her is attractive and charming has nothing to do with anything, because she's not on the market. She's the opposite of on the market, or wherever a secretly pregnant woman is instead of the market.

She sips Pellegrino - Tom probably thinks she's a recovering alcoholic, but he doesn't ask and she doesn't try to correct the assumption - and tells herself this situation is normal. They're two normal adults out on a normal date and there's nothing abnormal about her secret-

"Addison? Are you all right?"

She must look as green as she feels. She doesn't answer, sits for a moment until the feeling passes. "Yes. Fine. Thank you."

"Did you need-"

"It's just been a long day," she says quickly. "There's not always time to eat between patients."

It proves to be the perfect transition - Tom wants to know about why she chose medical school. Now this she can do, even though it's been a while since she had a first date. The key is to remember what _not _to say.

"I was always interested in medicine - my father is a doctor," she says. (_T__o prove to my philandering, inattentive father that I could be as good as he was at something in the failed hope that he'd notice me._)

He confesses that he thought about medical school, but can't stand the sight of blood. She nods politely at this terribly foreign concept, and he asks about her training.

"I took on a second fellowship because I knew I wanted to develop a holistic approach to my pregnant patients, and to be able to provide the kind of aftercare they would otherwise have to go elsewhere for," she says. (_The second fellowship also kept me from having to notice how little time my husband spent at home. If we're both busy, there's no problem, right?)_

He inquires about the move back to New York.

"I missed the city" - that part is honest - "and it was the right time to transition. The one-year teaching position was ideal." (_The secret pregnancy is more like a perk. I get distance from the ex-boyfriend and the ex-best friend, and I have convenient access to one of the most sought-after high risk OBs in the country - who just happens to be the big sister of my ex-husband._)

And that's when she realizes that though it's been a while, this is actually very recognizable as a first date - it's awkward. Oh, is it ever awkward.

There's the bathroom. Between the Pellegrino, which she downs like, well, water in every conversation lull, and the pregnancy, she's up and down three times before they order their food. She's too focused on her bladder to be embarrassed about it, but she does wonder on the third trip back from the powder room if Tom assumes she's bulimic, or has an unfortunate cocaine habit. She rubs unconsciously at her nose as she thinks this and is almost certain sees his eyebrow raise.

_Oh god._ Weiss is never going to let her hear the end of this.

And then there's the conversation. After her fourth trip to powder her nose, she turns the topic around to Tom as quickly as she can, asking him what he's working on.

"I actually can't really talk about it," he says apologetically. "Blackout rules and all that..."

"Right. Of course, sorry."

He asks her about her day.

"Busy," she says. "I have some promising students. One of them did a great job today when there was an unexpected hemorrhage and -" she breaks off at his expression. "Right. Blood, sorry."

"No, go ahead," he says gamely.

The waiter interrupts them, thankfully, to read the specials.

_Oh god, have we really not even ordered yet?_

Addison manages to cover her wince when artisanal blood sausages are mentioned - Tom looks a little paler, though. She surreptitiously checks her watch and reminds herself to tell Savvy that she is too old for awkward first dates. He was so easy to talk to at seder. How could this be so -

"Oh!" she must have jerked her elbow without realizing it because her water glass knocks over, soaking the fig tartlets neither of them have touched and pooling soppily around the puddle of cold sage-infused olive oil. "I'm so sorry," she says as the rest of it slops into Tom's lap. He pushes his chair back neatly, dabbing at his legs with his napkin.

"Don't worry about it," he says immediately. "I-" he breaks off.

Addison nods encouragingly.

"I was just thinking," he confesses, "that I'm getting too old for awkward first dates."

A smile spreads across her face. "You were?"

"I'm divorced," he admits. "I was in a relationship for eight years after that and I - seem to have lost all skill at the dating part of things. It was so much easier at seder," and she nods before she can stop herself.

"You want to see if we can find another seder?" he offers and she laughs.

"I think we're out of luck until next year."

"We could wait until next year."

"We could, but - I'd rather not."

"Yeah, me neither."

They smile at each other and much of the awkwardness melts away as surely as the puff pastry from the soaked fig tartlets melts gummily into the serving dish.

Tom tells her about his marriage - right out of law school, dissolved after less than five years - his public defender ex-wife and their eighteen-year-old daughter, a freshman now at Cornell. She thrived, not survived, in her fairly unorthodox upbringing, he explains, and Addison feels a mix of relief and happiness at this reminder that it can be done.

Addison, in turn, tells him about spending her entire life on the east coast only to uproot herself and bounce from one west coast city to another and then finding herself back here, once again, with a year to see if she wants to stay.

Plates are served and taken away, and Addison revels in the sudden ease of the night. It's amazing how quickly things can turn around sometimes.

They stroll the esplanade after dinner, the twinkling Jersey lights reflecting off the river.

"Ithaca is beautiful," he says as they walk. "And Alex loves it up there. But I just couldn't last very long away from the water."

"Me neither," Addison admits. She lets herself enjoy the stroll: the crisp, temperate air, the comfortable symmetry of walking in step with someone else. Even if it's someone new. Even if it's not a real date.

He's the first to notice how late it's getting, and she agrees. As they prepare to turn around to catch cabs, she stops to watch a sailboat with only a lantern at its prow.

"Dangerous," Tom murmurs.

"You're such a lawyer," she smiles.

"You'd have to stitch them up," he protests.

"Not if they're not pregnant," she says before she can stop herself and then swallows hard. She has to fold her hands on the railing in front of her to avoid pressing them to her stomach.

"Still, it does look appealing," Tom admits. His eyes are soft, watching the boat, and she's touched. What is it about little boys, and older boys, and the reverent way they sometimes look at vehicles? It fills her with poignancy for some reason. When he turns back to look at her his eyes are gentle and bright and almost without thinking she moves closer, then closer again until their faces are very near.

"Addison," he says quietly, a hand on her elbow.

"Wait - " She rests a hand against his chest. "Before we - I just want to make sure. You're not married, right?"

"Not for almost fifteen years."

"And you don't work at the University hospital?"

"Can't stand the sight of blood, remember?"

"And there's no way your ex-wife is my patient, right?"

"Leesha's an oversharer, so I happen to know she had her tubes tied three years ago."

"Okay." Addison lets a relieved smile break across her face. "As you were."

Unsurprisingly, he even kisses like a gentleman.

**X**

"What do you mean _it was fine_?" Savvy demands. "I want details, Addie."

"It was fine. He's very nice. The food was g-"

"I don't care about the food and you know it."

"Look, Sav, I'm kind of busy here."

"I'm going to ask Weiss for all the dirty details then."

"You do that," she says, amused.

"Did you have a good time, at least?" Savvy asks, her tone far gentler.

"Not at first. But then I did," Addison says honestly. "It was - interesting, you know? A sort-of-first date. But not really. You know, interesting."

"Are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know."

"Do you _want _to see him again?"

"I don't know."

"Addie!"

"I'm sorry, Sav. I promise I'll keep you in the loop, okay?"

"Okay. Addie," and her tone is serious now, "have you given any more thought to when you're going to tell Sam? Now that you're in your second trimester, and..."

"I'm thinking about it, Savvy. I think about it all the time."

"I know," she assures her. "I know. I just meant-"

"I can't imagine telling him over the phone."

"Okay," Savvy says cautiously. "Do you - were you planning to go to California?"

"No."

She hears Savvy draw breath and then, like the priceless friend she's always been, she drops it. "Hope wants to see you this week, Addie. Yesterday she pointed out that you have red hair like Ariel - you know, the Little Mermaid? - that's pretty much her highest compliment."

Addison laughs. "I want to see her too."

**X**

She's still smiling at the thought of Hope comparing her to a mermaid, and half-wincing at the thought of how Savvy will probably pump Weiss for information when she falls asleep. The ringing phone jars her awake again, too suddenly for her to notice the time. It takes less than half a second for her to realize it's anything but a social call and the smile drops from her face along with all thoughts of anything except the person on the other end of the phone.

"I'm coming," Addison says immediately, her heart in her throat. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next time<strong>: Addison answers the call and her secret comes a little closer to the surface. Did you read it? Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_

Lyric in the title from_ Closer to Love, _by Mat Kearney.


	8. In my dreams you are alive

**A/N: **I'm rather partial to this chapter (but no pressure on your end, really!). As always, I'm interested in your thoughts so please keep 'em coming. All reviews are greatly appreciated.

**Chapter 8 - In My Dreams You Are Alive (and Breathing)**

_"I'm coming," Addison says immediately, her heart in her throat. "I'll be there as soon as I can."_

She gets the call before dawn on a Tuesday; she's coordinating with the hospital and Med-Jet as the sun rises. By nine she's sitting on the tarmac with nothing in her arms but a quick change of clothes and her lucky scrub cap, a dark empire-waisted shirt concealing the slight bump below.

They chopper her in from Sea-Tac and she presses an instinctive hand across her stomach as she pushes through the forceful propellor gusts, protecting her baby and her secret in equal measure. Her hair whips around her face until she can barely see.

Her former student is waiting for her. "You're here."

"Karev." She tucks wind-whipped hair behind her ears, speaks loudly over the roar of the helicopter. "How are they?"

"No change, but - you know, we've been waiting for you."

She goes to Callie first, makes short work of the shockingly incomptent attending who's in there with her - they've never met, but neglecting to administer steroids in a textbook situation is no way to endear yourself to a neonatal surgeon. Or anyone for that matter. Addison leans in to Callie as soon as they're alone.

"Hey, sweetie. I'm so sorry about this. But you're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine. Both of you. I'm here now, and all the attendings are going to put their heads together and-"

And argue, of course.

Toe to toe with the architects of her miserable year in Seattle, she spouts caveats and ideas with equal measure along with the best of them. She takes some pride in how easy it is to see her ex-husband; he breaks off the point he was making to give her a quick, formal kiss on the cheek and to extend professional appreciation for her rushing to Seattle - she's the best, after all - and then they both immediately begin arguing about treatment plans with the other attendings like no time has passed.

All the other attendings except for Mark.

She finds him in an on-call room, head in his hands, and the sight of his big shoulders shaking brings helpless tears to her own eyes.

"Mark..." she slides next to him and he reaches blindly for her. She watches his large hand swallow hers, and she presses their joined fingers to her cheek, at a loss for how to comfort him.

"Mark, they have a fighting chance, they're getting the best possible care - it's going to be okay."

A sob escapes him and he slumps forward; instinctively, she pulls his head to her chest. His tears dampen the front of her scrub top. There are no words to say, so she just hums indistinct soothing noises, holds on tight.

He clutches her scrub top in one hand, and as he quiets, slowly, he begins to trace the skin just under the hem with one finger.

"Mark..." she tries gently to extricate herself before he notices anything amiss but he is holding her too tightly.

"Mark, don't," she protests weakly. Her eyes flutter half-closed in spite of herself, shoulder and rib cage molded against him. He knows her body too well; she shouldn't have let him get this close.

His hand drifts lower, dipping under the loosely gathered waist of her scrub pants, and stills over the small, but distinct, swell of her belly. She freezes, eyes wide.

So does he.

"Addie..."

She stares at the top of his head.

He looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes.

She nods.

"How ..."

"Sixteen weeks."

"_How_, not _how long_..."

"Mark..." He's still clasping her against him too firmly for her to move, but the hand covering her belly is as light as a butterfly's wing.

"Whose is it, Addison?"

"Mine."

"And...?"

"Just mine, Mark."

"Addison."

"Please, Mark, he doesn't even know."

"Sam?" he asks and despite her better judgment she nods.

"We're over, he doesn't want this, he doesn't know, and I'm not telling him yet."

He releases her then, leaving her scrub top bunched underneath her breasts. She smooths it out, watching him cautiously.

"You'll have _his _baby..." he growls but even in his pain he lets his voice trail off before he can do more serious harm. Still, the memory sears her and she has to close her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry, Addie, I'm sorry," he's saying then, still a mess, emotions everywhere, afraid for the child whose life hangs in the balance upstairs. She understands so she pulls him back into her arms, reassures him, letting him rest his tearstained face against her breasts. She combs her fingers through the stiff peaks of his hair, doesn't protest when he slips his hand back under her scrubs. He doesn't try anything, just softly rubs the little swell of her abdomen.

"You're beautiful like this, Addie," he says, so quietly she almost misses it, his voice muffled in her flesh. She closes her eyes, lets a tear fall into his hair.

He's clearly exhausted and when he finally gives in to sleep she pulls away gently enough not to wake him, settles him carefully against the pillow and slips out the door.

She folds her arms and sinks down against the wall. She's tired too. Tired, hungry. She rests her own hand on her belly where Mark's was a moment ago. She doesn't recall closing her eyes but she must have because a gentle hand on her shoulder shakes her awake what feels like seconds later.

Mark.

A glance at her blackberry tells her it's less than twenty minutes since she left him in the scrub room.

Wordlessly he holds out a bottle of water and a protein bar. She accepts them, folds her legs under her and tears the wrapper off with naked hunger. Mark slides down the wall beside her, takes a sip of her drink and they sit there together on the floor, like interns.

**X**

Mark won't leave the hospital that night, so she doesn't leave either. She sits on the small, stiff bed while he leans against the wall, as far away as possible without actually leaving the room.

"Would you rather be alone?" she asks tentatively at one point.

"No."

"You need to sleep. I can find another room, and you can-"

"I said no, Addison."

She exhales heavily. Unbidden the image of another blond head rises before her, bowed with the same mix of fear and apprehensive grief. She doesn't know Arizona, not really, but she knows Callie well enough to trust that any woman lucky enough to be with her must be worth knowing. Arizona had looked terribly small in the corner of that room, small and sad and very much alone while activity whirled around her.

She looks at Mark again, realizes with helpless affection that the sandy hair that crowns his head in her memories is nearly more grey than blond now. Slumped against the wall, he looks smaller than she remembers. Thinner. Sinew flexes in his arms as he folds them against himself, close enough to an embrace to make her heart twinge once again.

"You should talk to her."

He ignores her.

"You and Arizona are on the same side, Mark."

"You don't know..."

"I know families come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. And I know we don't always get enough time to say everything we want to our families, before it's too late."

He shakes his head, pacing the room. "We said things. Terrible things."

"You can recover from those things, Mark."

"I'm not so sure."

"You both love Callie. You both love the baby."

"Addison, don't - I'm not talking about this anymore."

"Just please promise you'll think about it. Please, Mark. She's hurting too."

"I'll think about it," he mutters, swiping the back of his hand against his forehead in a poignantly familiar gesture. "Is that enough to get you to leave me alone?"

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

His voice is so quiet she can barely make out the syllable. "No."

She draws her legs up under her on the uncomfortable mattress. "You need to try to sleep."

"I can't. They might -"

"They're in good hands. You'll be more useful to them if you have rest. Even a little."

"_You _need to sleep," he says with sudden vehemence, as if he's just realized. "You need to be ready to operate tomorrow, if -"

"I'll sleep. Okay? You sleep and so will I."

She's wearing clean scrubs, relieved that she doesn't have to try to hide her changing figure, and she reclines carefully against the stiff pillows.

Mark makes a move toward the top bunk, then pauses. His hesitation is louder than any words could be; tentatively, she extends a hand to him. He lets his fingers lace through hers and arranges his body carefully alongside hers. Somehow it's as cautious and as daring as their first night together.

"The light," she murmurs and he reaches across her to flip the switch. His haunted eyes still shine in the semidarkness. He draws ragged breath so filled with pain that she is not sure she can bear it. Uncertain who moves first, she finds herself curling into him, resting her head over his heart as she has so many times before. His arms close around her, one hand tangling in her hair, one fitting into the curve of her waist.

"Are you okay?"

The answer could have been a long one, but she realizes from the feel of his questing hand that he's asking if her position is acceptable in her pregnant state.

"I'm okay."

"I want this baby." His voice is low, husky. "But Callie - I need her to be okay. I need her, and -"

"She's going to be okay." Addison pushes aside her professional judgment, presses her body closer to his in as much comfort as she can offer. "They'll be okay. We'll make them okay."

He swallows hard; she feels the movement of his throat against the top of her head. Her eyes are closed against the warm fabric of his scrub top; under her own scrub top, his hand lightly traces the distance between waist and hip. The slightly larger distance, now. Protectively, she covers his hand with her own.

"Look, Mark, no one knows about my - I'm not ready - so if you could -"

"I'm not going to say anything."

"Thank you." She exhales with relief and worry and too many things to name. "Sleep," she says softly. "You need to sleep."

A knock on the door awakens her.

"Dr. Montgomery?" A nurse opens the door a crack. "They're asking for you."

When the door closes again to give her a moment of privacy, she is alone. Mark is gone, the slight indentation in the pillow beside her the only indication he was ever there.

**X**

He catches her before she scrubs in. "Addison, please -"

"I'm going to do everything I can." She looks him straight in the eye. "You have to let us do this, Mark. You can't be in the room. You know that."

"I know."

"Okay." She draws a deep breath. "Go, Mark. Go sit with Arizona. Let us work so you can meet your daughter."

And when she wraps her gloved hands around the impossibly small infant, pulls her from her mother's damaged body, she doesn't have to look up to see Mark's eyes on her in the gallery above.

They work on the infant, the neonatal team precise and efficient, and when she's stable enough to be rushed to the NICU Addison lets out the breath she's been holding, it seems, since the plane touched down in Seattle.

She tugs off her scrub cap, sweaty hair limp and loose around her face, and Mark grabs her in a hug. "Thank you. Thank you." He squeezes her tightly. "Addie, thank you."

She pats his back, feeling awkward with an audience. "She's going to be okay, Mark."

He leans in close, murmurs against her ear: "You didn't want anyone to know you were pregnant yet, but you came here anyway - even though people might figure it out?"

She pulls back just enough so she can see his eyes. "You called me," she says simply.

Then Arizona is hugging her too; Addison isn't big on hugs from people she barely knows, but makes exceptions for worried parents. "You two should go see your daughter," she says gently, feeling gratified when she sees they way they walk together toward the NICU, Arizona slipping a hand around Mark's arm.

She bends down to Callie, whispering. "The baby's doing well, Callie. Your daughter - she's strong, like you, and she's beautiful and she's going to be fine. You need to wake up so you can be with her, okay?" Addison takes a deep breath, tears in her eyes. "I'm - I'm pregnant, Callie. I need you to get better so you can make a judge-y face at me, and so we can introduce our babies to each other, and you can sing some lullabies over the phone because you know I can't carry a tune and - mostly I need you to wake up because your daughter needs you to wake up." She drags the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Wake up soon, Callie."

**X**

She's exhausted, nearly faint with hunger, but it's a Shepherd circus outside Callie's room. Derek, leaning against the wall and flipping through a file of notes, motions her toward him just as her blackberry buzzes with a call from Nancy. Gesturing to Derek that she'll be a moment, she turns away for some semblance of privacy before accepting the call. Nancy starts talking before she can, and doesn't sound pleased.

"Imagine my surprise when I hear Mark had a baby in Seattle and you're the one who delivered it."

She ducks around the corner, her voice low. "Nancy, I am trying to keep a low profile here-"

"All-night flights, helicopters, who knows the last time you actually slept in a real bed or ate a decent meal - if one of my patients flies across the country, I like to be kept informed."

"Nance-"

"Screw _like_, I expect to be kept informed, Addison."

She leans against the wall, running a hand frustratedly through her hair. "Look, I'm sorry. It was kind of a last minute emergency-type thing. I had to come. I should have told you, but there wasn't really any time, and I had to be here."

"Are you all right?"

"I"m fine." Automatically she swings her head left to right to see if anyone she knows is listening. Derek is re-absorbed in his file around the corner. "Callie's my friend, Nancy. She was the closest thing to a real friend I had here, and..."

"I'm sorry," Nancy says quietly. "How is she doing?"

"No change. Not yet."

"I just don't want to see you overtaxed, Addie."

"I know."

"How are you really?"

"Overtaxed," she admits and with a half-laugh, her voice catching a bit.

"I want to see you when you get back, Addie. I'll come to the Manhattan office."

"Okay."

"Be careful."

"Yeah. I will." She peers around the corner again. Derek looks somewhere between distracted and impatient. "Sorry I worried you, Nance - I'll call you when I get back."

"Sorry about that," she approaches Derek, who closes the file and gives her a cool nod of acknowledgement. "Work," she says, indicating her blackberry, even though it's not true and he didn't ask.

She updates him on Callie and the baby and they stand in semi-awkward silence for a few seconds.

"How's, uh, how've you been?" he asks finally.

"Fine."

"I heard you moved back to New York."

She nods. "About a month ago now."

"How is it?"

She considers the question. "There's TV in cabs now," she offers at last.

"TV in cabs?"

"It's informative."

"It's Orwellian," he says, smiling.

She breaks eye contact first. "I should get going."

"Right. Thank you for flying out here, Addison." A Chief's thank you.

"Of course," she says quickly - a top surgeon's acknowledgment that she was the only choice.

He nods, turns to leave and she puts a hand on his arm to stop him, her fingers recognizing the warm shape of it under the cool fabric of his lab coat. "Derek-"

He gazes at her expectantly.

"Look out for him," she says quietly, not even caring if it's out of place.

"Yeah." His mouth curves downward in that terribly familiar expression, his eyes pale and very soft. "I will."

**X**

Her work done, she flies back to New York, so tired she can barely keep her eyes open in the car from JFK.

When Savvy asks her how Seattle was, she says "exhausting." She has her assistant reschedule the day's patients and then she turns her blackberry to silent and sleeps for eleven hours straight.

When she's conscious again, she flips through her emails with slightly shaky hands, sipping ginger ale and silently coaxing the growing life within her to settle down.

_Call me ASAP_ - from Amelia. She flips to the phone and sees three missed calls. Her little (former) sister-in-law can be a bit dramatic, and she knows from two more recent Seattle emails that Callie and the baby are progressing well, so she procrastinates returning Amelia's calls. It's several hours, a check-in-call to work, a scheduling call to Nancy, and a belated breakfast of toast and blueberries later that she finally dials Amelia and learns that this time, Amelia was actually _not _being dramatic.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Lots of people knew it was Mark calling. Clearly my cliffhangers need some work... or I need less savvy readers. Next time: a conversation with Amelia, more capital-s Savvy, a doctor's visit, and a big turning point for the secret.<strong>_

_**Lyric in the title from Youth Group, "In My Dreams." Such a gorgeous song and I highly recommend it. It was played on Private Practice at the end of Season 3 during the Maya/Dell car accident, but I challenge anyone to listen to it and tell me it doesn't make you think, now, of Ella. (At least it does for me.) Thanks for reading!**_


	9. Things that happened the week after next

**_Author's Notes: _Apologies for the long delay between updates. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing - I'll try to update with more frequency, and I think (hope?) that things will keep getting interesting. It's been a while, so let's do a television style "previously on":**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Last time, on Six Impossible Things, Addison had just returned from Seattle when Amelia called with potentially shocking news...<em>**

* * *

><p><em>"It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards," the Queen remarked.<br>__"What sort of things do _you _remember best?" Alice ventured to ask.  
><em>_"Oh, things that happened the week after next," the Queen replied in a careless tone._

Lewis Carroll_, Through the Looking Glass_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

**_Things That Happened the Week After Next_**

* * *

><p>"Sam and Naomi are moving to New York!"<p>

"_What_?" The yelped response is far more polite than what she was actually thinking.

"Well, maybe not _moving _moving, but they're bringing Maya there to look at Columbia and Naomi was saying she might need extra help with the baby, and..."

"Amelia," she sighs into the phone. "Do you think you're being a little dramatic?"

Amelia's response is quick and indignant: "No! My job is to keep you up on all the gossip here."

"I thought your job involved scalpels. And something about the brain?"

"I like to think of that more as a hobby."

Addison forces a laugh, crumbles the remains of her toast ends between two finges. It's not Amelia's fault that Addison has avoided several of her calls, that she's worried Amelia will piece it together before she's ready to tell her and that would be - devastating.

Okay, so maybe she's a bit of a drama queen herself. Or maybe it's just hormones. Either way, resting her hand on her sixteen-and-a-half-week along belly, she faces the fact that she's going to have to have this conversation sometime. She's going to have to tell Sam, and she's going to face Amelia's displeasure at how long she was kept in the dark.

It's not that she doesn't want to tell her. That's what she'll say, when she can finally have the conversation out in the open. She'll explain that it wouldn't have been fair to tell her before Sam, that asking her to keep that secret when she lives next door to and works all day with the father would have been wrong.

She whittles Amelia's gossip down to the bare facts: Sam, Naomi, Maya and Olivia are coming to New York the next week for Maya's admitted students' tour.

Next week.

She's a board-certified OB and needs no charts to know exactly how developed the baby is now and exactly what it will look like next week. She's progressing according to schedule. The child within her won't be able to be kept a secret much longer.

She draws deep breath, runs her hand over the small swell of her belly. She's torn, of course: half of her would love to don maternity clothes - for the comfort alone - and accept seats on the subway and well-meaning pats and nosy questions from strangers. Isn't it her due, after a life spent fussing over other people's babies? The other half clings gently to the intimate mystery of her child's secrecy. It's a _folie a deux_ of sorts, a space for the baby within her to grow without question or pressure from outsiders.

_The two of us: we're a team. Whatever happens. Whoever knows. However they find out._

She dresses carefully - little by little, it's become more of an issue - thanking the gods of Seventh Avenue that empire tops and high waisted bottoms have sauntered back into fashion. Add a loosely skimming cardigan and she looks like herself.

Okay, a slightly more voluptuous version of herself. She's had to sacrifice a few push-up bras - there's a fine line, she's decided, between _attractive-yet-professional _and _off-to-earn-tips-on-the-corner. _But all she has to do is tell. Make this public and she can stop hiding her changing body.

She walks to work, eager for the routine of it - always having found that comforting - puts off the inevitable phone call she knows she'll have to make. Her body is changing and her life is changing along with it; she holds on to what she can. Orders an herbal tea from the cafe window, douses it liberally with nutmeg (in a city of eclectic tastes, at least it's good to know her cravings won't attract attention) and lets the familiar rhythms of the hospital calm the lingering anxiety.

**X**

The hospital's an imperfect distraction. Her phone flashes all afternoon: Savvy, checking on her. Nancy, reminding her to schedule an appointment later in the week. Miranda, updating her on Callie and the baby.

She's home by nine, massaging tired feet and considering takeout options, when she decides to take the plunge.

"Hey," he says when he picks up and she can't interpret his tone.

"Congratulations. I heard about Maya. That's exciting," she chirps mechanically and she marvels at the thought that they can develop some kind of stilted normality. Small talk. She swallows the wonder that Maya will be her child's half-sister.

_Will she? _

As Addison knows from Amelia and from her own life, mere shared blood is no sibling promise. She wills herself to pay attention, lets Sam chat about core curriculum and dormitories and some pilot program that will still allow her to spend time with Olivia.

Tentatively, she raises it: "Can we get together when you're in town? Just briefly," she says quickly. "I know you'll be busy."

"Oh." He sounds surprised. "Well, sure. I think Maya has a bunch of orientation activities, and one of her friends is going to keep an eye on the baby, but maybe we can all have lunch?"

Damn.

"That would be...great. I'd love to see Maya. But I was actually hoping to sit down one on one."

"Oh," he says again. She can almost hear him thinking, that tone he gets when he's considering what to say. "Um. All right. I'll email you when I know more about our schedule."

"Okay, thanks."

No doubt about it, breakups are strange. Polite telephone conversations with people whose names you've screamed at the heights of emotion: Anger. Ecstasy. Sometimes both at the same time. And now it's a calm "Bye, Sam."

She lies in bed for a while that night, thinking about how she's going to tell him. Will he be angry? Indifferent? _Eager_? It's the last option that worries her, really. She can handle anger. She's an expert at indifference. What she can't handle - what she won't allow - is the interpretation of her news as some sign that she should go back to California. That she should return to her old life.

No, she thinks, patting her growing belly. This new life is confusing at times - challenging, even - but it suits her just fine.

_Right, baby? _

**X**

"I'm going to tell him," she announces.

"I know." Nancy passes a silken measuring thread around the fullest point of her belly.

"No, I mean I'm going to tell him soon."

"Oh." Nancy looks up with interest. "That's a big step. What's the occasion?"

"He's, uh, he's going to be in town in a few days."

She can almost see the wheels in Nancy's head turning as she tries to draw on all the clues Addison's dropped - not many - over the last weeks of their doctor-patient history.

Addison sighs. One small step for Sam, one large step for a public pregnancy. "It's Sam Bennett."

Nancy's brow furrows. "Sam..."

"From med school. He was in our wedding party. And Naomi, one of my bridesmaids, was-"

"-married to him," Nancy finishes, recognition dawning on her face.

"Not anymore," Addison says quickly, annoyed at Nancy's knowing look. That's how it is with the Shepherds, apparently: once an adulteress, always an adulteress.

(She gives a quick mental apology to Amelia for the thought. She's always been a standout in that family anyway.)

"They're divorced," Addison explains. "And we were...together, when I was in L.A."

Nancy just nods patiently, listening.

Addison shrugs. "He didn't want kids. I did. I ended it, and I was pretty much on the plane here before I found out about the baby."

"He doesn't want kids?"

"He already has a daughter. And a-." She stops, winces at what's admittedly a rather sordid piece of a complicated story. Then feels guilty again for thinking of that sweet little butterball as sordid. Olivia will be her child's-

-Aunt?

Addison shakes her head and decides to keep that piece of information to herself. She's said enough. She lies back, waits with naked anticipation for the latest sonogram image and can't hide her smile when it appears. The inescapable fact: this baby is real. And becoming realer every day.

"Good luck," Nancy says, offering her a hand off the table. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

At the door she reminds Addison - unnecessarily - that they should be able to discern the child's sex at the next appointment.

"You want to find out, right?"

"Of course!" She's eager to learn anything she can about this child. Not lost in the complicated layers of secrecy and hiding is her genuine joy, her excitement.

_Won't be long now._

**X**

A picture is worth a thousand words, and the protruding swell of a lifelong flat stomach is worth even more than that. She decides to take the visual artist's way out: under a loosely belted cardigan that hides everything she wears a snug black knit shirt that makes it more than obvious. When she's sure she's alone in her office, she slips the cardigan on and off her shoulders a few times, feeling rather like Clark Kent in a telephone booth.

Super Miraculous Pregnancy Woman.

She rolls her eyes at herself, turns to the side, allows herself a small butterfly of delight at the way her body has shifted and moved to accommodate this baby. Much as her life is doing the same, really.

At the restaurant they agreed on for lunch, she sips sparkling water and waits for Sam to arrive. The table for two looks small and slightly intimidating; her cardigan hangs bravely off the back of her chair, but she slumps down slightly and lets her menu cover her torso.

"Addison. Hey." Then he's standing in front of her, Naomi silent at his side.

"Hi," she says uncertainly. Still sitting down, menu covering the unescapable fact of her pregnancy, she adds "I thought you were coming alone."

Sam makes a helpless face. "I didn't want to, you know, give you the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea?"

_Oh, you have got to be kidding me. _

She rolls her eyes. "Did you think I invited you here to jump you Sam? Seriously?"

Naomi has a possessive arm tucked into Sam's. "Are you really surprised, Addison? Would _you _leave you alone with a man?"

"Naomi," Sam says quietly.

"What? Who are we kidding here?"

"Look, can't you just talk to both of us?" Sam asks appeasingly. He scans the two-seater table awkwardly, then whisks a chair from an empty table and slides it toward Naomi. They sit, sticking awkwardly out on either side of the linen tablecloth.

"We're a couple," Sam continues smoothly. "Whatever you tell me, Naomi and I have to deal with together, so..."

"Sure. Fine." Sick of the conversation already, Addison refolds the menu and stands up, the unmistakable swell of her belly announcing itself with thunderclap loudness.

"Oh my god." Naomi stares. She pushes her chair back and rises to her feet. "You have got to be kidding me. I - I can't do this." And she turns and leaves the restaurant.

"I'm sorry," Sam stands too, glancing rapidly between her belly and her face. "You - you're -"

"It's fine. Go," Addison says and Sam disappears out the door after Naomi.

"Is everything..." the waiter hovers uncertainly.

"Everything's fine. We'll be two fewer for lunch," Addison says calmly, settles herself and her exposed girth back into her seat and orders a grilled chicken salad with a side of olive oil mashed potatoes - apparently one of the baby's favorites, because she's been craving it like mad.

She relaxes in the comfortable chair, flipping through the NEJM she's been meaning to catch up on, taking occasional sips of ginger ale.

**X**

She's slightly puzzled when they call her down to the visitor's desk. Confusion gives way to wary relief when she sees who it is.

"Nai," she begins. "I'm glad you came back. I-"

"How could you do this, Addison?" She cuts her off. "How could you do this to us?"

With a quick look behind her, Addison takes the other woman's arm - Naomi jerks it away - and maneuvers them both out the sliding glass doors. This is a conversation that calls for fresh air. And privacy. It's a New York hospital, though, so of course the air is exhaust fumes and the hot dog vendor on the corner, and _privacy _is a handful of banished smokers (whom she avoids as best as she can), patients' families, and various other loungers.

They regard each other for a moment. Naomi's hands are on her hips, and Addison recognizes the posture: poised for a fight. She's suddenly exhausted again: the events of the last two weeks, the life growing with her that she still hasn't revealed her colleagues, the weary practice of hiding. She folds her hands over her artfully concealed belly.

"What do you want me to do, Naomi?" she asks tiredly.

"Why don't you just exercise your right to get rid of this one too?"

Addison is too stunned to respond, grasping onto anything she can hold - in this case, the battered NO STANDING ANY TIME signpost that has seen better days. Naomi looks almost as shocked as Addison feels, and she turns on her heel and leaves without another word.

Addison tries to catch her breath. She can barely move. She can't think.

"Doctor Montgomery?"

"Gardener." She exhales. "What is it?" she asks without turning around.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

He stands next to her, his hand hovering near her elbow. "Are you sure? You've got no color. You look like you're going to pass out. Is it the baby?"

Now she feels like she actually might pass out. "How did you-"

"Neonatal prodigy, remember? It was pretty obvious, but I figured if you didn't say anything, you didn't want to talk about it."

"You figured right."

"So is it something to do with the pregnancy? You want me to give you a sonogram?"

"Nice try." She stands up straighter. "No, just good old fashioned backstabbing, and I'm all right. If you want to help, you can run and get me a decaf-"

"-espresso," he finishes. "I'll be right back."

When he hands her the steaming paper cup he passes a few ginger chews along with it, the brand she's been - subtly, she thought - carrying in her lab coat pockets. She decides to come down on the side of sweet instead of stalker, and sinks her teeth gratefully into one of the tangy drops.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

"Oh, I will. Don't you have somewhere you need to be, Gardener?"

"Yeah." He starts to leave, then turns on his heel. "I won't say anything."

"I know you won't."

"Dr. Montgomery-"

"You're a good guy, Gardener," she says quietly, sliding her blackberry out of its case to confirm that the conversation is over. "You're going to make some age-appropriate girl very happy some day."

**X**

Another Bennett is the last person she wants to talk to, but when Sam calls her the next morning, asking her to meet for coffee - with no indication he knows of Naomi's visit the previous evening - she agrees. They choose a faceless Starbucks and she's already sitting down with a green tea and a cup of fruit-studded oatmeal - eggs still turn her stomach - when he arrives.

She lifts her head in greeting, but doesn't stand. Pregnancy prerogative.

"Hi," he says shortly once he's doctored his coffee. He pulls out the chair across from her, sets his cup down and they regard each other silently for a long moment.

"Look, about yesterday - that isn't how I would have liked to react," he says finally.

"That isn't how I meant to tell you," she admits.

"Can we try this again?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Okay." He nods his head a few times. "All right. Are you - okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm great. I'm happy, Sam."

"What about me? What do you need?"

"I don't want or need anything from you. Thank you, for this." She rests a hand on her belly. It won't be long before she'll start to feel movement. "But you didn't want this, you didn't plan this, and you don't have to do anything at all."

"I'm not a man who turns his back on his obligations."

"This baby is not your _obligation_," Addison says angrily. "And neither am I. We're no one's obligations."

"That's not what I meant -"

"I know what you meant. Look, Sam, I know what it's like to be the child of parents who didn't want me-"

He starts to shake his head. "Don't. It's true, I've dealt with it and it's fine. But the truth is, neither of my parents wanted to be my parents and I felt that, Sam. I felt it every day. I knew it - even if I didn't _know _it, I knew it. It's not going to be like that for my child. I love this baby so much already, Sam, I want this so badly and for as long as I can help it there's not going to be a single person in my child's life who doesn't _want _to be there. I won't let that happen. For as long as I can make sure of that, that's what I'm going to do."

"What does that mean for me?"

"It means you're not obligated to do anything for this baby."

"My father walked out on our family." Sam's mouth is set in a straight line. "My mother worked three jobs - for me not to support my own child, I don't know Addison..."

"If you want to show support, make an educational trust or something like that, that's fine," Addison says. "My lawyer can set it up. But this baby doesn't actually need financial support, Sam. Day to day, we have everything we need. If you _want _to do something, well, that's different."

"What about seeing...it?"

"Same thing. If you want to, I'm not going to stop you, but you are under zero obligation and if it isn't something you truly want to do then I don't want you anywhere near this baby."

"I'm sorry, Addison."

"I'm not," she says simply. "I know it wasn't planned, but it's what I want. And we have everything we need."

"So what do I do now?"

"You drink your coffee," Addison says. "You tell me how Charlotte and Cooper and everyone else at the practice is doing. Then you say good-bye and you go back to your family."

And that's what he does.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: <strong>The finding-out-the-sex appointment. (Guesses?) Addison practices the mommy thing on Hope, and continues to juggle her 'terns.

Did you read it? Please review - I love hearing your thoughts (and this means you, all you recent story-alerters!)


	10. The cause of lightning

**Author's Note: _I know I said I'd update faster. I'm trying, I promise! I've been distracted by other stories (and I hope you faithful readers of this story will check them out), but now that this chapter is posted, I think things are going to move faster. Plus this chapter is hugely large - that has to count for something, right? Keep reviewing - I love reading your thoughts! All you faithful readers and reviewers are awesome. _**

* * *

><p><em>"What is the cause of lightning?"<br>__"The cause of lightning," Alice said very decidedly, for she felt quite certain about this, "is the thunder - no, no!" she hastily corrected herself. "I meant the other way."  
><em>_"It's too late to correct it," said the Red Queen; "when you've once said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences."_

(Lewis Carroll, _Through the Looking Glass_)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

_**The Cause of Lightning**_

* * *

><p>The scream is loud, long, and ear-splitting. Addison holds the phone away from her ear for a long minute, then brings it tentatively closer. "Are you done yet?"<p>

"Not sure," Amelia says. "Wait - nope, not done."

And she shrieks again.

Addison waits it out. "_Now _are you done?"

"Yes. Done. I'm sorry, Addie, I'm sorry about your ears, but this is - this is just - I mean this is just incredible. I don't even know what to say -"

"As long as you say it instead of screaming it."

Amelia laughs. "I said I was sorry. Come on, I get to scream a little bit. This is the best news I've heard in - I mean, I'm shocked. Weren't you shocked?"

"Oh, I was shocked." She sits back in her chair, a smile spreading across her face. She came straight to the hospital after breakfast with Sam, directly to her office, and dialed Amelia as soon as she had privacy. Finally getting to share the news with her former sister-in-law is an enormous relief. More than anything else, more than the sonograms or the shirts that won't close, it makes the pregnancy feel real.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me all this time - no, don't apologize. I understand."

"I appreciate that. You know I wanted to."

"I know. I get it. Although I can't believe Nancy knew before I did."

"She _is _my doctor."

"But she's such a b-"

"Amelia!"

"Sorry. I know, she's the best at what she does. The Shepherds wouldn't have it any other way. And you should have the best doctor for this pregnancy, Addie. You should have the best everything."

Addison's throat feels oddly thick as she responds. "Thank you, Amelia."

"So. It's Sam's baby. I mean - that is going to be some beautiful kid, Addie."

Addison laughs. "You never know."

"No, I do know, Addie. You're so gorgeous that I'd hate you if I didn't love you so much, and Sam - well, where do I begin with Sam."

Addison wonders if Amelia can hear her rolling her eyes.

"I'm just saying, you picked a perfect sperm donor. He's hot, smart, and yeah, he can be kind of a dick, but so can your ex-husband, so-"

"Amelia!"

"I'm just kidding. Wow. Pregnant for a few months and already all motherly."

Motherly. She tests out the feel of the word, and can't help beaming at the thought.

"_Is _he, Addie? A sperm donor, I mean?"

Addison thinks. "Well, it's his child too, so if he wants to be involved - _w__ants,_ though. No obligation."

"How did he take the news?"

"Better than Naomi did."

Amelia is silent.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just - I'm not that surprised it didn't go over well. They've had some...let's say tension lately, Sam and Naomi."

"They have?"

"They're in couples therapy."

"And how do you know that?"

"It's Oceanside, Addie. News travels fast. Speaking of which -"

"Wait for Sam to get back to California," Addison says firmly. "It's only right. Then have at it."

"Addie, promise you'll call me when you know whether I'm having a niece or a nephew?"

"I promise."

"Just one more thing-"

"Yes?"

She waits for Amelia's final word, but it's not a word at all - just another ear-splitting shriek of excitement. Grinning, Addison holds the phone away from her ear. "Good-bye, Amelia!"

**X**

Over lunch, at Savvy's request, they meet at _m__aman _ on Madison Avenue. It's a predictably adorable maternity boutique: high fashion with exquisitely subtle tucks and dips to fit an expanding figure. The owner greets them with a flurry of double-cheek kisses and exclamations over Addison's figure. When she returns with a portable rod hung heavily with beautifully tailored garments, Addison turns to Savvy. "You're kidding."

"What? So I picked out a few things in advance! I knew eventually you'd give in and come maternity shopping and - I just wanted us to be prepared."

Addison shakes her head. Savvy's hit it out of the park - she knows Addison well, and the selections she's made are tasteful and classic, with flattering drapes that show her long legs and proportions to great advantage. She glances in the antique standing mirror, awash with wonder at how very, well, _pregnant_ she looks. She touches the curve of her belly.

_This is really happening._

She slips into a pair of ridiculously comfortable, yet somehow perfectly elegant, dress pants. A hidden seam lets her expanding stomach breathe without compromising the width of her hips or the shape of her thighs. She smoothes the richly textured material.

"Sav, I can't believe you did all this without me," Addison marvels.

Savvy beams. "Well, you're a busy doctor. You never know when you might-"

Addison's pager goes off.

"-have to run," Savvy finishes.

Addison hugs her. "Thank you so much. I'll take them all," she waves across the rack of clothes. "And a few things in the next size." She hands Savvy her credit card. "Can you just get them delivered?"

"Already arranged."

**X**

She rushes back to the hospital. Once her patient is stable, she gathers her residents together. "So, you know I tell you all that it's important to keep a line between your professional and personal lives," she begins. "And I stand by that." She fixes Gardener with a stern glance just in case. They all nod.

"Well, here's a two-minute diversion from that: I want you to know that I'm pregnant, and since you're off my service at the end of the week it shouldn't affect your training in any way. But, so you know, there it is."

They're silent for a moment, staring at her. For a group of doctors so interested in neonatal, they seem puzzled.

"I'm pregnant," she repeats, as one after the other glances at her belly and then looks away politely. "It's not just too many muffins from the coffee cart."

"Do you know the sex yet?" Herschel asks.

"No. Later this week."

"Dr. Montgomery, we can find out - we can do that test!"

Addison frowns. "I'm just starting my twentieth week. No."

"Not that test. The one with the ring - Jamie, you know what I mean-"

"Yes!" Her interns look more animated than they have all day. "We just need a wedding ring."

"Hector has one."

"Here. Just give me a second." Cortez fumbles with the white gold band on his fourth finger as she tries to get all of their attention again.

"Guys."

"You just need to tie it to a string. Does anyone have a string?"

"Will surgical thread work?"

"Yeah, that'll work. Just double it. No, triple it-"

"_Doctors_!"

They freeze.

"Your interest is sweet. I appreciate it. However, no one is doing any kind of test, particularly not one that involves a ring and a string. You are _doctors._" To a man- well, a woman - they blush, looking embarrassed. "I know. I find it hard to believe some days too. Cortez, put your ring back on. You two, stop spooling that thread. This is our last week together - let's try to make it a productive one, please."

With a predictable level of sulking, they do as they're told.

"Dr. Montgomery?"

"Yes," she sighs, as patiently as possible.

"Congratulations."

"Yeah, congratulations."

"That's really cool. A _baby._ Wow."

"Thanks, guys." In spite of herself, she's touched. They mean well. They're enthusiastic. They're big overgrown kids themselves in some ways, and with a final pat to the child her lab coat no longer conceals, she puts aside her exasperation. "Thank you."

**X**

Wednesday's a welcome day off, and it means comfortable clothes - _m__aman_'s selection of maternity yoga pants rivals anything she's seen - and a firm knock on Savvy's door armed with bagels, iced decaf, and a large sunhat for the park.

"Addie!" Savvy throws open the door. The living room is a bustle with toys scattered on the carpet, Hope - wearing only one shoe - running amok, and Ethel Merman belting from the iPod dock.

"Interesting choice of music." Addison raises an eyebrow. "Gypsy?"

Savvy shrugs. "Weiss's idea. He figures he has to wean her off Disney musicals eventually and he thinks this is family friendly. There are kids in it, after all."

"Isn't it about a stripper and her overbearing stage mother?"

"Right. A family show." They laugh.

Hope darts back in, a purple sippy cup in her hand. "Addie!" She twines around her legs. "We're going to the park!"

Her enthusiasm is contagious and Addison grins. "We've got beautiful weather and everything."

Savvy slips out to take a call. She's shaking her head when she walks back in.

"I'm so sorry." Savvy swipes blond hair out of her eyes. "Emergency hearing for one of my _pro bono _clients. I need to go. Hope was so excited to go to the park..." she trails off.

"I'd be happy to take her."

"Really? Oh, Addie, thank you so much. And Brady should be here soon. The kids are great together, but another pair of adult hands is - let's just say it's a good thing."

"Can we go see the penguins?" Hope pulls at her hand. "And the carousel, Addie, the carousel!"

Savvy laughs. "I think someone's happy to get some Aunt Addie time."

Hope jumps up and down, balancing on her tiptoes. "And we can go see Alice!"

"Make sure you feel the statue first," Savvy warns. "You know this. I know. But it can really heat up, even though it's not that warm" - it's nearly Memorial Day, but it's been cool and breezy. Still, she thinks the sunhat may be in order later.

Brady and Spencer arrive a few minutes later. Addison had forgotten how tall Savvy's cousin-in-law was, and has to stretch to her tiptoes in running shoes to greet him. She's somewhat relieved to see that he's taken the WASP-y approach familiar to her of pretending the awkwardness at seder didn't happen. She does the same.

Spencer, freckled and blue-eyed and rather adorable, hangs back behind his father. Brady talks calmly to the adults, not pressuring him, and Addison waits until Spencer slips out from behind his father's leg to say hello.

"Spence, do you remember Addison?" Brady prompts.

"_Addie,_" Hope corrects firmly.

"You can call me Addie too," Addison smiles at Spencer. "If you like."

"Okay," he whispers.

Brady strokes his head. "Aunt Sav's got to run, Spence, but you and I and Addie and Hope are going to go to the park. Hope's got a lot of things to show you."

"A lot," Hope agrees.

Savvy breezes through again, plants kisses on everyone in the room and assures Addison she'll be reachable by phone. "Be a good girl," she warns Hope. "Aunt Addie and Uncle Brady are in charge and you need to listen to them."

Hope scowls but nods her acquiescence.

"Call me for _any _reason, okay?"

"I will. Unless we're too busy having fun," she winks at Hope, who grins and takes her hand.

"Let's go, let's go!" she urges, and they do.

Hope and Spencer walk just ahead of the adults, holding hands. They look sweet together, Hope taking it upon herself frequently to point out passing landmarks to her cousin ("That's the deli where I _sometimes _get a lollipop" and "This is my pasta restaurant but you are _not_ supposed to yell in there or you have to leave"). She's as charmingly chatty as her mother and Addison grins inwardly at this adorable example of the nurture/nature conundrum.

"You can share my sand toys, Spencer," Hope says grandly a few blocks from the park, and Addison stifles a grin.

"They get along well," she observes.

"I think Spence is a little cowed by her, but that's pretty much how it goes with the Tarleton women." Brady smiles. "She's so tiny, but you forget that when you see her calling the shots."

It's been a while since Addison saw the Alice in Wonderland statue, but as they approach the clearing it's like she's never been away. Children are climbing on it - Addison tests the surface with an open palm anyway, per her agreement with Savvy, and finds it pleasantly warm to the touch. Alive.

"Alice!" Hope squeals, dragging Spencer by the hand. "Spence, look at Alice!"

Addison and Brady stand a few respectable feet away, letting the children play. She watches them climb on the statue, thinking about the child growing inside of her. A girl or a boy? There's so much she doesn't know yet.

Hope jogs over.

"Addie?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Is there a baby in your tummy?"

"Yes," Addison says immediately, then freezes, one hand resting on the swell of her belly, when Hope asks her next question:

"How did it get in there?"

Addison is silent. She doesn't dare answer.

_Oh Sav, maybe this was one playdate you shouldn't have sat out._

Hope's sweet, expectant face is still gazing up at her.

Then Brady is at her side, smiling down at Hope.

"Why do you want to know?" he inquires smoothly.

"Because," Hope says as if it's obvious. "I want to find out if that's my little brother in there." She points at Addison's stomach.

"Oh. N-no," Addison stammers. "It's not your little brother."

"Okay." Hope shrugs. "Can me and Spence get Italian ices?"

"Sure," Addison says slowly. _Disaster averted. _"Wait, Hope, hold - hold Spencer's hand."

They line up at the truck in a human chain, Addison scooping Hope up so she can see the flavors.

"I want red please thank you," she says all in one breath, and Addison grins.

"Very good choice. And what does your mommy want?"

"That's not my mommy, that's my Addie," Hope corrects casually. To Addison she says, _sotto voce_, "Get the red because the blue is yuck."

Addison can't help grinning. "Red it is."

"Me too," Spencer pipes up.

"Make it four."

They're served without further comment and as Addison sets Hope on her feet she thinks about her own child**. **She thinks about how she was mistaken for Hope's mother, how easily strangers accept that a woman and a little girl who look different could be a family. Looking around the park, it's not hard to see why: families come in all shapes and sizes, colors and genders. It's a melting pot of shrieking children, chattering adults, the watchful eye of nannies and the buzz of passing joggers. Unbidden a thought rises in her mind. It's not the first time, but it's the first time it's felt so clear:

_I'm staying here. I'm raising you here. We're home._

"Addison?"

She looks up.

"You're melting a bit." Brady snags a chunk of slippery red ice before it hits her shirt.

"Thanks. Good catch."

"Preventing spills - comes with the territory. I'm kind of a one-trick pony when it comes to parenting, but this has served me well."

"More than one trick. That bit with Hope before - you saved me. That was quite a trick."

He smiles. "It's interesting really. Someone gave me that advice when Spencer was little. A different context, though, for talking to kids about death." He says the word _death_ with a certain practiced ease, but she still sees pain flicker across his features. "Some of the questions kids ask - we get so caught up in our own adult reaction to what we think they mean - but sometimes what they're really wondering is something much easier to answer."

She nods, taking it in. He looks a little rueful. "Some of those questions, though..."

Addison smiles. "Is Spencer a big questioner?"

"He's so much like his mother." Brady shakes his head. "Sensitive, you know? He thinks about other people - are they happy, what they might need. He's so attuned to it. They were doing a unit on space at his preschool - planets, shuttles, moon landing and all that. He was fascinated. And he asked me 'What does it feel like to go to the moon?' So I started going on about weightlessness and special suits with air to breathe and the incredible force behind takeoff and he just looks at me like I'm speaking another language." Brady breaks off and laughs, his eyes very soft. "And he says 'No, Daddy, what does it _feel _like?' He wanted to know how the astronauts felt. Were they scared? Did they miss their houses when they went up into space, or their dogs."

She's touched by the story and by the expression in Brady's eyes as he discusses his son: the easy affection, pride, love. It gives her a brief pang, thinking of her child. But at the same time, it warms her somehow to see it.

_I don't know yet if you'll have a father, baby. But I promise you'll have lots of people who love you, and spend time with you, and look that happy when they talk about you. _

_I promise. _

**X**

"Any last guesses?" Nancy smoothes cold gel over Addison's stomach a few days after the park playdate.

"Nope."

"We can try to figure it out -"

"Isn't that what you're doing right now, Nance?"

"I mean with _this._" Nancy points at her wedding band and Addison rolls her eyes, laughing in spite of herself.

"What is it with that trick?"

"Oh, come on. It's not getting much use, anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing." Nancy's eyes sparkle. "Don't tell Don."

Addison furrows her brow, confused, then holds out a hand when Nancy starts to pull at the ring. "Let's stick with the wand, please."

"Here goes." Nancy turns the screen to Addison, applies pressure and they both watch the screen silently.

"There we go. Looking great, Addie." Nancy moves the wand, clicking the mouse and recording the in utero statistics.

She moves the wand one more time.

They see it at the same time and say it at the same time:

"A girl!"

"You're going to have a daughter, Addie."

"I'm going to be a mom," Addison murmurs.

"Well - that was going to happen either way."

"I know that! It's just - it seems more real now."

Nancy squeezes her free hand. Addison can't stop smiling. Her face is actually starting to hurt.

"Have you thought about names?" Nancy asks.

"I have the name," Addison says immediately, surprising herself. She doesn't know if it's because she's been thinking about it or because she just _knows, _but - there it is. As if she's known all along.

"Well?"

But she's not ready to share.

"A little girl, Addie." Nancy pats her shoulder. "Congratulations."

_Hi, baby._ Addison leans back in another cab, another sonogram picture in her hand. She's lived here long enough to have routines now: the thought is as comforting as it is exciting. She rests a hand gently on the spot where her child is growing. A little girl. Her daughter. _It's been you in there all along, hasn't it? _

**X**

"I knew it!" Savvy shrieks when Addison tells her.

"Yesterday you said you were certain it was a boy." Addison tucks the phone into the crook of her neck, using both her hands to hang her new maternity jacket.

"Well, today I knew it. Addie, a girl! I mean, I'd be thrilled either way," she adds hastily. "But a little girl. Oh, Hope is going to go nuts. How do you feel?"

"Excited," Addison says, because it feels natural to be honest with Savvy. "Overwhelmed. _Emotional,_" she whispers that as if it's a bad word and Savvy laughs.

"Oh, Addison, this is so - hey wait, didn't you say you were seeing Tom tonight?"

_Damn_.

"Yes. I - I don't know where my mind is, Sav. I'm beyond late. I have to run."

She's forgotten a date. Lovely. Is this the "Mommy brain" her patients had spoken of?

She feels guilty as she sends him an apologetic email and jumps in the shower. She thinks about him as the warm water washes gel and tension from her body in equal measure. They've been out a few times, just organically spending a bit more time together - he had passes to an exhibition she wanted to see, then Savvy and Weiss handed along the seats at the ballet they wouldn't be able to use. He likes French food and Scotch whisky, and she, admittedly, likes the casual and comfortable symmetry of sitting across the table from a decent conversationalist with a good haircut and a sense of humor.

She was married for eleven years, after all, and with the same man - for the most part - for more than fifteen. Can she help it if she's grown used to the luxury of borrowing a jacket when she's cold, sampling a second person's entree, the light brush of a hand at the small of her back when she walks out a door?

_I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date._

It's nothing serious. But it's nice. And it's been a while since she's had nice. _Nice _is seriously underrated sometimes.

She hustles uptown, sees him in the window of the bistro they'd agreed on. Her blazer conceals her belly neatly, but she's decided that she's not going to keep this information from him forever. Tonight, if it comes up. Or the next time.

He stands when he sees her. The words tumble out.

"Tom! I'm not usually this late. Or late ever. I mean, I'm a doctor, so of course my patients can cause all sorts of - but anyway, I really do prefer to be punctual, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"Whoa, slow down." He holds up a hand, laughing. "First, you're not even that late. Did you get my email? I was held up too, on a conference call."

"Oh. No."

He smiles. "Second, I didn't realize you could fit so many words in without a breath."

"I have excellent lung capacity."

"Among many other talents."

"Well." She smiles at him, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He pulls out her chair, putting her more at ease, and they settle in, catching each other up on their days. Tom mentions an installation in the park and her hand automatically flutters to her stomach. _Don't mind me, baby. I'm going to tell him all about you when the time is right_.

The waitress, a slip of a blonde who looks even younger than her interns, approaches with amuses bouches in both hands. Addison looks up at her with interest - she's hungrier than she realized - and it happens. Like slow motion, she slips, her legs giving out, and crashes to the floor. The tiny bowls of cold seafood bisque shatter and slide across the hard wood. The girl looks horrified, her face a mask of shock, hands clasping a rapidly swelling once-skinny ankle.

Addison drops to her haunches immediately. "Don't move." She smiles reassurance at the girl and waves away the approaching crowd. "Give her some air please. I'm a doctor," she informs her and examines the ankle, manipulating it gently.

"Does anything else hurt?"

"N-no," she stammers.

"You should get that looked at."

The maitre'd signals to another staffer to help. "We'll make sure she's checked out."

"You should get the floor looked at too," Tom pipes in. "Seems like there might be a dip in the boards right there." He indicates. "Wouldn't want anyone else tripping."

The maitre'd nods quickly. The owner ambles out shortly after, assuring Tom and Addison that dinner is on the house, and the crowd disperses.

Addison grins, sitting back on her heels. "You know, we make a pretty good double act. A doctor and a lawyer. I'll fix 'em, you sue 'em - what?" She sees the way he is looking at her. Suddenly she realizes that in her haste to help the fallen waitress her blazer has opened and her stomach is exposed. The clingy grey shell leaves nothing to the imagination.

Slowly she rises, accepting Tom's offered hand, and eases back into her seat.

He's regarding her calmly from across the table, and she swallows, takes a sip of water.

"Tom," she begins carefully.

"Addison."

"This is a little - a little belated, maybe, but, uh, I'd like to tell you something."

He just nods. "Okay."

"I'm ... pregnant."

"Yes. I can see that."

"I'm sorry. I should have said something earlier, but I don't - I don't know how to do this either, and I wasn't sure when the right time was. I'm sorry."

His blackberry beeps then; she's surprised, he's never had it on anything other than vibrate, but he palms it immediately, scrolls quickly and groans. "Addison, I'm so sorry, I know this is terrible timing, but - I have to go."

She just nods, looking at her hands. She expected as much. Maybe deserves as much. But she can't help feeling slightly disappointed.

He drops a hasty kiss on her cheek. "I'll call you."

But he doesn't call her. Not that night, not the next morning.

She's not that surprised. What _is _surprising is that she cares.

**X**

There's not much time to probe that feeling of care, though - she's busy. Busy at work, finishing out the last week of her cycle with this crop of interns. Busy at home, with Savvy directing her on childproofing and bringing over fashionable maternity bits and pieces she can't resist. Busy juggling calls, now that more people know she's pregnant. She's playing phone tag with Amelia, anxious to tell her the sex over the phone instead of by email, as she'd requested. First Amelia calls in the morning when she's in surgery; then when Addison returns her calls that afternoon, they go straight to voicemail. Twice.

Finally, contact is made when Amelia returns her call that night. "Sorry I missed you earlier. I'm dying for more details. Did you get the sex? I mean, of the baby?"

Addison snorts. "Really, Amelia. And yes, I did."

"Well?"

"I'm having a girl."

"A girl!" Amelia squeals. There are traffic sound on the other end of the phone; she must be calling on her headset during her evening commute. "Addie, that's so exciting. A niece. My niece. She _is _my niece, you know," she says quickly, a mock threat in her voice. "You didn't divorce _me._"

"Of course she is, Auntie Amelia."

"Auntie Amelia," she repeats dreamily. "Addie, this is just - it's so incredible. Are you over the moon?"

She smiles, thinking of little Spencer Laird and his questions. _What does it feel like to go to the moon?_

"I'm over the moon." _And it feels great._

"I can't wait to see you pregnant. Can't wait! Can I come visit some weekend?"

"Back to your old stomping grounds? Of course."

A call buzzes in. "Amelia, I have to take this. I'll call you back soon - will you be around?"

"I'll be around."

She clicks over to Nancy. "Is everything all right?"

"Are you going to answer every call that way from now on?"

"Only until she's born."

"Or until she's eighteen."

Addison takes a second to fan herself at the thought of having an eighteen-year-old daughter. Eighteen. What was she like at eighteen? That wast the summer she had her last growth spurt, and along with it - she gulps. _I'm going to supervise you a little more closely than my parents did, kiddo._

"Come on, Nance. What's going on?"

"Nothing medical," Nancy assures her. "Your labs look perfect, and your daughter is as beautiful as a twenty-week fetus can be. I just wanted to invite you out to Southport this weekend. Don will stoke the barbecue, the kids have deigned to stick around as long as they can bring their horrid friends... it will be fun."

"What's the catch?"

"Kathleen's coming."

_I love Kathleen,_ she almost says. It would have been her automatic retort, but...

"I want to see all of you," she begins tentatively. "But..."

"But you're still kind of in the pregnancy closet."

"Well, no, not in the closet, but..."

"But what? But my brother?"

She sighs. "But your whole family, Nance."

"Derek won't be there. Mom won't be there. Neither will Joanne or your pal Amy. It's not the whole family."

Addison winces at the tone Nancy uses for _Amy_, but that's another battle and not one she's prepared to fight over the phone. She pauses, buying time.

"Just think about it, okay? The kids have been asking about you. You're living out here now, and... and it would be nice, Addie. You haven't even seen the renovations to the house yet."

"I'll think about it. Thank you," she says sincerely, "for the invitation."

"So, how's life outside the closet?"

"It's interesting." Addison runs a hand over her stomach. She hasn't felt movement yet, but she's ready. More than ready.

"Interesting? Is that good or bad?"

"Mostly good. In some ways - hang on, Nance, there's someone at the door." Confused, she pads into the foyer. She really does have to talk to the doorman about letting people upstairs. Then again, Savvy probably had a late meeting and figured she'd stop by. "Nancy, I'll call you back." She clicks off the phone and pulls the door open without checking the peephole - it _has _been a while since she's lived in New York.

"Oh my god."

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: <strong>The mystery visitor revealed. A crisis for Savvy. And something new at work.

All of you who guessed it was a girl, nice work! All of you who guessed it was a boy, well, now I'll just have to write another where she has a boy. (Just kidding - I'm already overextended. But I've given her a baby boy before, in a much less upbeat story...) Anyone have any thoughts on her daughter's name? And any of you who scrolled through the story to find the gender first - yeah, I probably would have done that too. Thanks for reading; please review and let me know what you thought.


	11. How it was that they began

**Author's Note: _ I haven't updated in so long and I'm sorry - I haven't forgotten about this story and yes, it is meandering to an eventual conclusion! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed and asked about it. It's quite a different tone to the rest of my stories at this point, so capturing that isn't always easy. I hope you like this excessively long chapter and will let me know what you think. _**

* * *

><p><em>Alice could never quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how it was that they began: all she remembers is, that they were running hand in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all she could do to keep up with her: and still the Queen kept crying "Faster! Faster!", but Alice felt she <em>could not _go faster, though she had no breath left to say so. _

(Lewis Carroll, _Through the Looking Glass_)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

_**How It Was That They Began**_

* * *

><p>A smile breaks across her face as she opens the door wide to her unexpected visitor. "You know, surprises aren't great for pregnant women."<p>

"You hung up before I could tell you!"

She drops to her knees and, with the door still wide open, speaks directly to Addison's growing midsection. "_Hi_ there, little lady. I'm your Auntie Amelia."

Addison endures her chatter for a while - ruefully admitting to herself how much she'd missed it - before extending a hand. "You coming inside, Auntie Amelia?"

Amelia whirls through the apartment, decisively pointing out what needs to go and what should stay before parking herself on the white leather couch in the living room ("Definitely has to go"). She pats the cushion and Addison settles in next to her. "Amelia, I'm thrilled to see you, but-"

"Shh. Presents."

She reaches into her bag and withdraws a pair of tiny pink ballet slippers. They're adorable, miniscule, but - "Your niece is ten inches long right now."

Amelia shrugs.

"She'll grow into them. Oh, and I don't want her to feel pigeonholed, so - here." Amelia withdraws a tiny, butter-soft baseball glove. Addison laughs.

"Anything else?"

"Well, literacy rates are terribly low these days." Amelia rifles in her bag again and withdraws a book.

"_Where the Wild Things Are_?"

"I always identified with Max."

"That's doesn't surprise me. And what's this one?" Addison turns the unfamiliar book over, then reads the title with a laugh: "_It's Fun to Fly on Airplanes._"

"I figure the kid will be bicoastal. I mean, _if _Auntie Amelia stays in Los Angeles."

"As opposed to...?"

"I was just saying."

"Right." Addison stacks the gifts neatly on the coffee table. "These are great, Amelia. Thank you. And - what did you say you were doing here?"

"Visiting my proto-niece. And you."

"That's all?"

"Seriously, Addison, you'd think you didn't get a lot of visitors."

Her last visitors were the Bennetts, so...

"Not a lot I'm happy to see."

"I'm going to stop in and say hi to my old mentor at University-"

"I knew it!"

"But no surgeries. These-" she flexes her fingers "-are just for my niece."

Addison looks at her quizzically, then shakes her head. "You can't feel her kick yet."

"No?"

"When she does, you'll be the first to know."

Amelia tucks her feet under her, settling back against the cushions. "I'll take it."

**X**

The rest of the night disappears into sparkling pomegranate drinks Addison has perfected ("very refreshing") and sisterly catch-up. Amelia is laughing her way through Addison's descriptions of her interns clustered around her trying to determine the sex of her baby.

"Wait." she stops. "What _is _the wedding ring test?"

"Oh, you know. We did it for Nancy when she was expecting Sean." She motions with her fingers as she describes it. "You tie your ring to a thread and then hold it over your belly, and if it goes side to side it's a boy, and if it goes in circles it's a girl. No wait, maybe it was the other way around."

"Did it work for Sean?"

"It predicted he'd be a girl," Addison admits.

Amelia laughs.

"And he's still not a good test taker. Didn't he take the SATs three times?"

Amelia's tone is very neutral, rather carefully so: "Are you caught up with all the kids now?"

"Not all of them." Addison picks up the small baseball glove again, runs her fingers over the soft leather. "Nancy's. You know, I've been talking to her a couple of times a week."

"Oh."

"Are you going to call her, when you're here?" Now it's Addison's turn to keep her tone neutral.

"Probably not."

"Amelia..."

"Addie, you're pregnant." Amelia grins, leaning back and propping her feet on the coffee table. "Pregnant! Let's talk about something happier than my dysfunctional relationship with my sisters - not counting you, of course."

"We're not dysfunctional?"

"It's a happy kind of dysfunction."

**X**

Pomegranate spritzers have given way to Thai food and both women's feet are propped on the coffee table when Addison checks her watch and groans. Getting up tomorrow is going to be - interesting.

"You tired?"

"Nope." Addison draws a weary arm across her eyes. "It's just midnight."

"Good. So." Amelia beams, drawing her legs underneath her on the white leather couch. "Fill me in on the guy drama, Addie."

"What? There's no guy drama. I've been sort of occupied here, growing a human." She gestures at her belly.

"Come on, if I know you, you've made _some _time..."

Addison studies her hands. "There was a guy..."

"I _knew_ it!"

"Don't get too excited. It's pretty spectacularly over." She gives Amelia a quick summary of her very brief relationship with Tom.

"He ran scared?"

"You can't really blame him, Amelia. Most men his age aren't jumping to sign on for a pregnancy, much less a poorly hidden one."

"You're doing the single mom thing, huh?"

"Not like I have a choice in the matter-" she's single, so very single, and she's made her requirements clear "-but yes, that's the plan."

**X**

Amelia trails her to work the next morning, and Addison hasn't even downed her decaf when they're chased down in the hall on their way to the cafe.

"Dr. Montgomery!"

She closes her eyes briefly.

"You're off my service, Gardener," she says when he reaches them. "Remember?"

"I know, but I heard Mrs. Cobleigh was back for her oopherectomy and I wanted to assist, if..." he trails off, seeing Amelia. Addison nods encouragingly.

"She was my patient for her hysterectomy, and I just thought she might feel more comfortable with someone she knew assisting you."

"I'll consider it." Addison presses her lips together, rather touched and not wanting to show it.

"Who's the toddler?" Amelia asks brightly.

Addison rolls her eyes, making reluctant introduction. "Dr. Gardener, Dr. Shepherd."

Amelia holds out her hand. "I'm her sister-in-"

"Don't bother," Addison interrupts. "I'm sure he already knows. He's memorized my Wikipedia entry."

Amelia's eyes widen. "Memorized?"

"More like updated." Gardener smiles at Amelia. "But only when it's really important. Did you read Dr. Montgomery's article on fetal viability in the last JAMA? I thought it was one of her best."

"I read it." Amelia nods slowly. "I liked it. What are you, her agent?"

"No. Just a fan. Nice to meet you, Dr. Shepherd."

Amelia tucks her hand into Addison's arm as they walk away. "This hospital is weird, Addie."

"Weird?"

"I thought I'd leave the touchy-feely behind in L.A."

"Yeah." Addison pauses on the mat to let the automatic doors reintroduce them to the sun. "You know, I think I just stopped noticing after a while."

**X**

It's wonderful to see Amelia. It is, though she's somewhat embarrassed to think it, as if Amelia's brought a bit of the west coast sun with her, tracked some of the Pacific beach sand back into her life.

But something is up.

Addison knows her face, her expressions, like you can only know someone you've loved through puberty, someone you taught how to use condoms and how to wear heels and how to straighten her hair without burning the edges.

They're sitting outside on the terrace - outdoor space is deeply coveted in the city, even when it overlooks an urban landscape. Addison props her feet on the little table in front of her and lets her gaze settle on the East River.

"What haven't you told me?"

"Nothing!" Amelia protests, a little too quickly.

"Amelia." Addison touches her wrist. Amelia's wrists are so small, such delicate turns of bone. Derek was built similarly, though he never liked her pointing it out. Their hands were exactly the same size, Addison's sturdy wrists a sure match for his watch.

"It's nothing, Addie."

"Amelia, I know you." Addison persists gently. "I can tell when you're - look, remember when I did your hair for prom?"

"That feathered monstrosity? Who could forget it?" Amelia grins and Addison almost lets herself fall into the memory. Amelia was anxious, hands trembling a little - with the benefit of hindsight, she thinks Amelia might have been swigging more than pepsi to calm her nerves. But she'd melted under Addison's hands, equal parts grateful and excited.

"Well, you didn't like the first one. Remember, with that side part-"

"It looked like a combover!"

"It looked elegant," Addison chastises. "But anyway, you pretended you liked it because you didn't want to hurt my feelings..."

Amelia shrugs.

"But it was so clear you were disappointed. It was written all over your face. So-"

"So you redid it."

"With the feathers."

"The feathers," Amelia smiles, recollection flitting across her blue eyes.

"My point is, there's something else that you're not telling me."

Amelia is silent for a moment, and Addison is considering giving up when she speaks, quietly. "I slipped."

Addison nods. In the distance, she watches a man and a woman slide together into a taxi. They could be going anywhere.

"It started at Charlotte's wedding, I just -

Addison is still listening but her heart is thumping fast and cold. In some ways her love for Amelia has always been mixed up with fear: Worrying she'd feel left out at her brother's wedding. Worrying about the pack of cigarettes she saw in her purse. Worrying she'd never see her laughing little surrogate sister again, that she'd stay swallowed up by the the drugs and the anger. Worrying that rehab wouldn't take. Worrying that their newly strengthened bond, nurtured under the bright Santa Monica sun, was too fragile to last.

"Addie, don't." Amelia is touching her arm now, gentle little surgeon's fingers. "It was just a slip. Not a fall."

Addison nods, but it's the hormones maybe because she feels tears behind her eyes. She closes her lids. A car horn sounds.

"Look, I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't want to worry you."

"I worry anyway," Addison manages. She opens her eyes to see Amelia's face very close to hers. "I worry about you, I - I love you, Amelia."

"I know." Amelia draws a deep breath. "I love you too, Addie, and I - I guess I can't tell you not to worry about me, huh?"

"Nope."

"How about this, then: I'm worried about me too. That's what's different this time. Okay? I slipped, but I caught myself. I didn't fall."

"Okay." Addison lets out a breath, feeling for a moment like they're breathing as one. Sisters. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, ex-

"Amelia!" Addison grabs her hand, presses it to her belly. "Feel that!"

Amelia drops to her knees in front of Addison, unmindful of the cold flagstone under her legs. "Oh my god. I felt it, Addie, I felt it!"

The first kicks. They sit there, Addison in the wrought iron rocker, Amelia kneeling at her feet, both of them marveling, their hands splayed softly across Addison's flesh waiting for another sign from the life within.

**X**

"You sure you don't want to come?" Amelia tucks her hair behind her ears, carefully fastening dangling earrings.

"I doubt I can keep up with you and your med school crew. I'll be at Savvy and Weiss's; they're more my speed." Addison's tone is light, but she studies Amelia's eyes, hoping what she said was true. That it was a slip. That she's back on her feet.

"How do I look?" Amelia turns, propping a hand on her hip, showing off her halter top.

"Like someone who'll be home by midnight," Addison attempts.

"Two," Amelia barters with a grin.

"One." Addison rests a hand on her belly. "We need our sleep."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse. And I can stay at a hotel if that's easier."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. Addie." Amelia looks up at her, eyes clear and bright. "I know you worry, but - you have to trust me too, okay?"

Addison closes her eyes briefly. This melange of pain and love and fear, the tug at her heart when Amelia walks out the door, ballerina-straight posture and braver than even she knows. She rests a hand on the swell of her belly and realizes it's all just beginning.

**X**

She realizes something is wrong as her finger rests on the buzzer. There's a silence she's unaccustomed to, and when Weiss opens the door his eyes are dark and grim. She sees the back of Savvy's bright head in the open-plan den and before she turns around to greet her she hears it.

Savvy is crying.

The sound cuts right through her but before she can say anything, little footsteps patter down the stairs and directly in front of her.

"Hopie," Weiss cuts her off at the pass, tries to scoop her up but she runs to her mother.

"Mommy," Hope clambers into her lap and wraps her arms around her neck. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," Savvy tries to catch her breath and Addison and Weiss exchange helpless glances over her head. "I'm sorry, baby, Mommy's just feeling sad."

Hope snuggles closer. "Why are you sad?"

"Mommy's okay," Weiss reassures her, one hand on each of their heads, stroking blond and black hair simultaneously. "You're both okay." He reaches for Hope. "Come with Daddy now and let the big girls talk."

"Go ahead, sweetie," Savvy says huskily. Hope plants a wet kiss on her mother's face. "Don't be sad, Mommy."

Savvy holds her for a moment longer, then relinquishes her to Weiss's arms. He hoists Hope with one hand, squeezing Savvy's shoulder with the other. Savvy watches their retreating backs.

"I didn't want her to see me so upset, I just can't - I -"

"Savvy, what is it?" Addison covers one of Savvy's hands with her own. Fear laps at the corners of her mind - the diagnosis they'd dreaded. "Sav?"

Savvy draws a long, shuddering breath. "He's sick, Addie."

"Who's sick?" Her mind races. "Weiss?"

She hiccups and Addison leans closer, brushing Savvy's tear-streaked cheek with her own. The tears make the years melt away, and under the moisture and flushed cheeks Savvy's the freshman dumped by her arrogant half-back boyfriend. Her swimming eyes are the same ones that locked on Addison's in the meat-locker chill of the OR. Confessing what she wanted: a lifetime with her husband. Addison's own breath hitches. Not Savvy. And as Savvy murmurs, "no," she realizes it's not Weiss either. But-

"My baby." Savvy leans forward, giving the weight of her head to Addison's shoulder. Addison has one more flash of confusion - _not Hope_ - not the perfectly healthy little girl who just bounded into the room minutes ago - but then Addison realizes what she means. The beautiful little boy whose picture she saw on her first dinner with Savvy when she got to New York. It feels like years ago, but it wasn't. The adoption that's taking too long, the red tape-

"What happened? Sav?"

"He's sick," she whispers. She leans back wiping her eyes. "Sorry, Addie-"

"-don't be sorry-"

"-I need to get it together, I just - they kept pushing us off. The agency. And now they let us know he's sick but we can't go there. Our visas won't - and so it's delayed again, and they're not even sure when they can operate." She details his condition, Addison automatically sifting her layperson's description into the medical bare bones.

"I'm afraid I'm not - that I'm never-"

And her fear hits Addison in the gut. No, slightly lower, because she can't even imagine this pain. Addison has her own fears for the child she is carrying, but Savvy's child isn't nestled in the security of her own body. He's separated by distance and politics and she can't hold him to reassure herself, or look into his sweet sleeping face. She can't even do what Addison does now, automatically, for comfort: rest the palm of her hand over the strong beat of her own child.

Addison takes Savvy's hand again. This is her best friend's child, and nothing - not distance, not politics - should be permitted to cause this pain.

"Let me make some calls," Addison says. "One of my old teachers is on the board of One Child One World. Maybe they can do something."

**X**

Walking to work the next morning, sipping herbal tea and pondering the easy give and take of old friendship, she surreptitiously crosses her fingers in the pocket of her light jacket. Under her fingers she can feel her daughter move, just slightly. _We need this one._

And then her cell rings.

"He's coming here!" Savvy cries into the phone. "He's coming to Miami for the surgery. Addie, you're a miracle worker. You're amazing."

The good news washes over her. "Sav, that's wonderful."

She's barely slid into her chair, patient files propped on her desk, when her phone throws another surprise at her.

Three days after their disastrous dinner, it's Tom calling.

"Addison," he sighs. "I was afraid you wouldn't take my call. Listen, I need to explain-"

"I understand," she says quickly. "Look, you didn't sign on for this - there's no need to explain. You've been great, and just take care, okay?"

"Addison, _wait._ Did you read the paper today?"

She thinks. "Science Times, yes."

"The actual paper - the front page, the business section, that kind of thing?"

"No." But it's on her desk and she glances at it. "What's - _oh._" The merger is splashed above the fold; Tom's firm prominent in the first paragraph.

"I left you and went right into a conference room. I haven't been out for three days."

She skims a few paragraphs in and sure enough...

"I'm sorry, Addison. Blackout policy. We can't - no phones, no emails, I can't even call the dog-walker myself without a two-degree separation."

The last few days fall into place. There will be time later for self-exploration, but she wonders - just briefly - at how quickly she assumed she'd been rejected. Set aside.

"Addison, you still there?"

"Yeah." She switches the phone to the other hands. "Um, congratulations on the deal."

"Thanks. I really am sorry about the unfortunate timing. And, to revise a phrase, I'm getting too old for this - stuff."

They speak at the same time: "I just assumed - " "I understand-"

He breaks off with a chuckle.

"Look, I have to take my team out tonight. Tradition. Not like we haven't had enough togetherness, but - tomorrow night?"

"I'd like that. My sister-in-law's in town, though-" and she's not sure how long she's staying; it's Amelia, after all.

They make tentative plans for next week.

**X**

Spring is in the air, warm and fresh. The light breeze carries a wealth of possibilities. There's a touch of humidity curling the ends of her hair, and, of course, there's love.

The kind of love that can only blossom between a four-year-old and her new idol.

That's right - Hope is in love with Amelia, and Addison is trying not to take it personally. It's not replacement, not rejection. Not really. It's just a four-year-old entranced by Amelia's long, wavy hair, and a neurosurgeon who never lost her taste for preschoolers' games. Hope bestows it on her like a crown: "You can be Belle."

"Is that the one who's always reading?"

Hope nods.

"Cool."

"She's been waiting for a Belle," Savvy says approvingly, smiling at Addison and sweeping her own Princess Aurora-hair out of her eyes.

"Great," Addison says grumpily, loading hummus onto a serving dish. She's served up her own competition, bringing Amelia by for an early dinner. Savvy hasn't seen her in years and welcomes her with typically open arms. Amelia is lovable; that's certain.

"Don't worry Addie." Savvy piles grainy crackers around the edge and scoops a handful of grape tomatoes out of the strainer to join them. "Ariel is still a _very _important princess."

"She doesn't even have legs!"

"So, you have enough for both of you."

"Did someone say something about legs?" Weiss leans around the doorjamb. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yes. The six of us are fine."

Addison and Savvy make eye contact and Addison counts it out: the two of them ... and their legs. Savvy is consumed with giggles and Addison grins to see her so lighthearted. They fly to Miami on Thursday, and the prospect of seeing the baby seems to have left Savvy somehow both exhausted and energized.

Weiss puts an arm around her and snatches a grape tomato with his free hand. "What did Addie put in the hummus?"

Addison gulps, remembering a pan of brownies a decade and a half ago, a moonlit swim, the four of them in the pool at Bizzy's summer house, delighting in how disapproving she would have been. She can almost feel the geysers of hot water from the filter, the hot tang of chlorine and the way her head swam along with her limbs.

Back in the present, Addison can't help laughing. "Everything's okay, Weiss. Except apparently I'm jealous of a Disney princess."

"Well." Savvy recovers, chomping on a baby carrot. "Motherhood makes you do strange things."

"I'm not-" but, she reminds herself, the gentle swish of the little mermaid inside of her reminding her that yes, she _is._

**X**

After the hummus is long gone, they relax in the den with the windows open wide to the spring-scented air. The change in temperature, seasons and time feels poignant to Addison as she watches Hope play with Amelia and rests her hand on the life within her.

The adults talk about plans for Savvy and Weiss's trip to Miami. Addison half-smiles, realizing she should probably include Amelia in that group, but then again, as she hears a loud whoop from the corner where Amelia and Hope are engaged in some sort of princess tag - maybe not.

Hope jogs over, having heard her name, and rests a little arm on Addison's leg. "Where are you going?"

"Addie's not going anywhere," Savvy explains. "Remember, we talked about it, Mommy and Daddy are going to Florida so we can-"

"I want to go to."

Savvy reaches for her. "This is going to be just a grown-up trip, sweetie. But maybe next time-"

Hope pulls away, and grips Addison's hand. "Then I want to stay with Addie." Hope hangs on to her hand. "And 'Melia."

"Hopie," Savvy says patiently. "Remember when we talked yesterday? You're going to stay with Aunt Molly, and-"

"No!"

"Honey," Savvy turns to Weiss. "A little help?"

"Hope, you are going to have lots of fun with Aunt Molly and your cousins."

"I want to stay in _my_ house."

Weiss lets slip the syllable that sums up everyone's expressions: "Oy."

Hope lounges against Addison, defiance all over her little face. Addison almost smiles and then Hope jumps away with a squeal.

"Hopie?"

"Something bit me!"

"Honey-" Savvy reaches for her and Hope trots quickly into her arms.

"Addie's belly bit me!" She points, eyes wide over her mother's shoulder.

Addison puts a hand to the bump in question and feels a strong answering kick. "Hope, it's okay. That was just the baby saying hello."

"Really?" Hope slides off Savvy's lap as quickly as she climbed on. "Hello," she says bravely, standing in front of Addison. Tentatively, she reaches out a little hand and Addison places it gently on the swell of her belly.

"She might not say hello again right away, but -"

"Oh!" Hope squeals again, this time with pleasure. "She bit me again!"

"Kicked," Savvy corrects gently. "Addie, I didn't realize she was already kicking."

"As of yesterday." Addison gestures welcomingly at Savvy, leans back in her chair, and lets her daughter's rapid socialization ease the tension of the previous conversation.

At the door, light jacket around her shoulders, Addison hovers while Amelia says good-bye to Hope. "Sav - Why can't she stay with us?"

"What?"

"I mean, we'll stay with her. She wants to be in her own bed, and go to school - we can do that."

"Addie, no. It's too much."

"I'll help." Amelia unfolds her legs from under her and joins the adults.

"Are you sure, Addie?"

She looks at Savvy's face, the shining eyes so reminiscent of Hope's, and is more than sure.

**X**

Thursday comes fast. "Okay, Addie, you can still back out -"

Addison shakes her head. "We're in it, Sav. And you already emailed me six pages of instructions, so-"

Savvy laughs. "Sorry. Right. So, the nanny will be there too; she's going to stay all three nights, and if you need anything-"

"-I have an alphabetized call tree. Got it."

"Addie, we have a kid." Amelia grins as the door closes behind Savvy and Weiss.

"We have a kid," Addison repeats as Hope veers at top speed from her bedroom with armloads of coloring. Savvy pointed out that it was better if Hope didn't see the door close; Addison pocketed it, filed away with other bits of mothering information she'd taken from Savvy since arriving in New York. Lord knows her own mother hadn't given her any useful nuggets of information unless teaching your children to mix drinks and then disappear for the rest of the night counted.

"It will be good practice." Amelia busies herself tracing Hope's hand on a large sheet of paper, Hope giggling as the crayon - pink, of course - tickles her fingers.

Hope gives Amelia another tour of the house and they lounge on the chaise in Savvy and Weiss's room, framed pictures of laughing Hope decorating the walls.

"Addie, can we have pizza for dinner?"

The thought nauseates her, but she smiles at Hope's pleading eyes. "Sure."

"'Melia, look what I can do!" Hope clambers onto her parents' big bed.

"Hope, are you-" Addison trails off.

"Jumping is fun!"

"This is a great kid," Amelia announces. "I like this kid."

"What kid?" Hope asks with interest, bouncing on the bed.

"_You_, kid!" Amelia says. She hops onto the bed next to Hope.

"You can't jump!" Hope giggles. "You're a grownup!"

"Wanna bet?" Amelia jumps a few time and Hope falls over in laughter.

Addison looks from one grinning, dark-haired face to the other and grips the back of the chair for support. She has a date next week. She has an unanswered invite to a Shepherd family barbecue. She has a child in her belly and two on the bed. She has no idea what tomorrow's going to bring.

And as the laughter and jumping intensify, she realizes she's perfectly okay with all of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time: <strong>Addison and Amelia get lots of practice, Savvy and Weiss get to see their son, and Amelia gets an interesting offer.


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